Reign of Four III
Date: 2015-09-01 03:03:23+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Science Fiction; Space Opera; Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic; Sagas
Description: The first female monarch takes power of an extraplanetary empire in this “fast-paced fantasy epic” by the acclaimed author of the Apex Trilogy (Richark A. Knaak, New York Times–Bestselling Author of the World of Warcraft series). Station Aleon, a planetoid of System Helios, has withstood calamitous struggles thanks to the strong rule of its first two Masters of Station, Alexis Teirmont and his son, Alexis the Second. As it comes time for Alexis the Third to reign, the nobility wonders if they are ready for the first Mistress of Station Aelon. The first female monarch in the history of System H
Publisher: Permuted Press+ORM

Reign of Four
I

Jake Bible

A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK

Published at Smashwords

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-68261-021-3

REIGN OF FOUR: I

© 2015 by Jake Bible

All Rights Reserved

Cover art by Dean Samed, Conzpiracy Digital Arts

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Permuted Press

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Franklin, TN 37067
http://permutedpress.com

Contents

Act I—A Young Master Rises

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Act II—A Rebellion Halted

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Act III—A New Life, A Sudden Death

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About the Author

Act I—A Young Master Rises

“While it is the current trend to think back on the early days of our civilization as barbaric and primitive, considering the propulsion drive hadn’t even been rediscovered yet, I cannot stress enough that we wouldn’t be the Unified Stations if we did not have the groundwork laid out for us by such luminary monarchs as Alexis I and Alexis III of Station Aelon.

Without them the concept of passenger freedom would still be a punchline to the jokes told by stewards and stewardesses in parlors and banquet halls.”

—Dr. D. Reven, Eighty-Third Archivist of The Way

“For Evil is not hidden, but staring us in the face. To hide from it is to shame oneself and our Dear Parent Helios. We must look straight at Evil and declare to ourselves, and the System, that only Helios can sway us. And when swayed, it is for Good alone.”

—Book of the System 9:14, The Ledger

“Family. That is who we can and must trust. But what defines family? Blood? Lineage? Close quarters? Are we not all family on a station? Perhaps trust comes first, then family sorts itself out.”

—Journals of Alexis III, Mistress of Station Aelon and its primes

Chapter One

Turquoise.

That is all the Minor of Aelon Station, Alexis Teirmont, could see as he stared up at the sky above him. His eyes were dazzled by the cloudless sky that only appeared above The Way Prime, while the rest of the planet was covered in Vape clouds so thick that barely anything besides breen crops could grow.

Helios.

A planet ripped apart by the Cataclysm, sending its inhabitants fleeing to orbiting stations, artificial planets in of themselves, so many millennia before.

A planet that leaked Vape—a gas that fueled everything from the shuttles that launched from The Way Prime to the very rotational drives that kept the stations spinning with artificial gravity.

The planet had once been covered by a pristine ocean with one central continent, but after the Cataclysm became a world of boiling, poisonous seas and fractured land masses known as the primes.

Helios.

A star. The Star.

Helios.

A solar system. The System.

Helios.

A god. The God.

Everything Alexis had learned through his young life on Station Aelon, and occasionally down on Aelon Prime, whirled through his head as he stared at that impossible turquoise. That color held him, spoke to him, taunted him. It was a color he had fought for, but in the end realized it was too much and had to give in, just as the other stations gave in when The Way finally triumphed and ordered a truce.

A truce he would have to sign despite his feelings about corruption of The Way’s High Guardian and gatekeepers. Those men and women may have controlled the only way on and off the planet, and used that control, along with the power of Helios, to maintain a religious hold on the stations, but they could not use it to control the essence and spirit of each individual.

Alexis had fought for that spirit; fought with men around him, men he led, men that looked to him as their minor, the heir to the crown of Station Aelon; fought and watched those men die by the hundreds and hundreds as The Way’s Burdened mowed them down with superiorly fueled vehicles and weapons.

In the end, it was The Way’s mastery of Vape that decided the outcome of the war, not their mastery of the people they purported to represent spiritually in this life and the next.

Alexis flinched as he felt his fingernails dig into his palms, the fire and anger still so fresh.

“Your highness?” a voice spoke softly behind him. “I apologize for interrupting.”

Alexis turned and beheld the diminutive figure of Gatekeeper Clegg and smiled. He shoved all thoughts of aggression away and looked on a man who had known him almost all his life.

“Clegg,” Alexis greeted the holy man of The Way. “What a treat. I wasn’t expecting you to be here on the surface.”

Clegg, a man twenty years Alexis’s elder, smiled softly and nodded to the young minor and heir. He drew back the dark grey hood of the obligatory robe all gatekeepers of The Way wore and stood tall, which still put him a good foot shorter than Alexis’s nearly seven foot height.

“Greetings, your highness,” Clegg said. “It has been a long time since I have set foot down on The Way Prime. I must admit I enjoy the station life much more. The gravity on the planet can feel so oppressive.”

“Yet it builds one’s strength, don’t you think?” Alexis grinned, puffing out his chest. “Once I return to the artificial gravity of the station I’ll feel like a god. My muscles won’t know what to do with the slightly lesser weight of space.”

“Yes,” Clegg nodded. “I see your point. Although it borders on blasphemy.”

The gatekeeper looked into Alexis’s eyes for a long few seconds, making the minor a tad uncomfortable. It was not polite to stare at an heir to a station’s mastership. Nor was it prudent to stare at a Teirmont, many of which had been known throughout history for their volatile tempers.

“You have something on your mind, Clegg.” Alexis frowned. “Unburden yourself, old friend. You know we can always speak as equals when alone. You helped raise me almost as much as Father did.”

“Yes, your father was a great parent as well as master of station,” Clegg replied. “He will be forever loved.”

“I think you exaggerate about his role as master of station,” Alexis laughed. “While it is true he has been a loyal and loving parent, his leadership as Master of Station Aelon has left a lot to be desired.” Alexis spread his arms. “Otherwise I would not be down here signing the Treaty of the Primes. But, again to my father’s credit, he does know how to delegate. It has given some too much power on Station Aelon, but it has also allowed me to learn the duties of master well before I am forced into the role.”

Gatekeeper Clegg did not respond, but only frowned deeper. He swallowed hard, looked about the sparse quarters The Way had assigned to Minor Alexis, found the water pitcher, and quickly hurried over to pour a glass. Alexis watched him with amusement, well used to the gatekeeper’s penchant for melodrama. The older man gulped at the water as if he hadn’t had a drop in ages and Alexis had to cover a condescending grin with his hand.

“Speak your mind, Clegg,” Alexis said. “Unless it is to tell me that the High Guardian has negated the truce and Aelon is at war once again. But who will we fight this time? Not The Way, since your burdened handed us our helmets. Station Thraen? Haven’t they played us against each other enough? Talks have been solid regarding our lease holdings on their prime, so I do not think it is them. What, gatekeeper? What is the trouble?”

“Your highness,” Clegg began then stopped as he poured another glass.

Alexis strode to the holy man and gripped him gently by the wrist.

“Out with it, Clegg, now,” Alexis said. “I think you have primed the pump enough. And Helios knows that once primed, that pump needs no more encouragement.”

“True indeed,” Clegg smiled weakly. “I have been known to prattle on once I get going.”

“Then prattle,” Alexis prodded. “Spill what it is you must say.”

The gatekeeper motioned for Alexis to sit on one of the few luxuries in the quarters, a high-backed chair, fully upholstered in breen fabric and stuffed with spun breen fiber. It was not adorned with patterns such as the furnishings on Aelon Station, but it did allow Alexis the illusion of the small comforts of home.

Once seated, Gatekeeper Clegg continued to stall, his eyes roaming the quarters, taking in the plain grey metal walls, the skylight above, the less than simple furnishings. He looked at the dark grey metal chest of clothing the minor had brought down to the planet. It held trousers and thick tunics, undershirts, and socks, several pairs of heavy breen gloves and an assortment of caps. To the side were the minor’s weapons—a long blade, two short blades, and a handheld sling with packets of sharp flechettes stacked next to it.

Alexis sighed loudly and sat back in his chair, crossing his long, muscular legs that gave him the nickname the entire Station Aelon knew him by—Longshanks. Alexis was not a fan of the name.

“Clegg,” Alexis barked, his patience gone. “I said out with it and I mean out with it.”

The gatekeeper turned his attention back to the young royal and sighed.

“Your father has died, your highness,” Clegg said quickly. “You are being recalled for your coronation as the new Master of Station Aelon. The master is dead, long live the master.”

Clegg took a knee and lowered his head, showing the shaved X on top of his scalp. Alexis’s eyes focused on the shorn pattern of the X as a million thoughts ran through his head.

“That’s why you addressed me as ‘your highness,’” Alexis said finally. “I caught the mistake, but didn’t say anything as I know you get your titles mixed up at times. I was just happy you hadn’t said it in front of Father, as you know how he gets so angry at the misuse of titles.”

Gatekeeper Clegg looked up and furrowed his brow.

“I am sorry for your loss, your highness,” Clegg said. “It must come as a shocking blow.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Alexis said. “How did he pass? No, let me guess. He was crushed by a beam as he insisted on helping one of his construction crews rebuild yet another deck.”

“He passed in his sleep, your highness,” Clegg replied. “A peaceful way was his end.”

“Ha,” Alexis laughed. “I know that must have sent his ghost into such a rage!”

Clegg tried to smile, but couldn’t, his mind not understanding the young minor’s, and suddenly master’s, reaction. Alexis saw the look on the gatekeeper’s face and dropped the smile, his hand reaching out and patting the holy man on the shoulder.

“Forgive me, Clegg,” Alexis says. “Helios must think I am a monster to react such a way to the news of my father’s passing.”

“Helios does not judge those that are pure of heart,” Clegg responded. “Judgment is for the wicked and evil of intention.”

“I thank you for that reminder,” Alexis said. “And as explanation, I knew Father wasn’t going to be long for this system. His servants have been keeping me informed of his failing health for many months now.”

“They have sent you word? Even down here on the planet?” Clegg asked, surprised by the information. “What else have they told you, your highness?”

“Nothing of station importance,” Alexis replied. “Those secrets of station are not for my ears. Although, I guess they are now.” Alexis waved his hand. “But never mind about the servants. They only told me of my family’s health, especially my father’s and Eliza’s. I shall be adding another heir to the Teirmont line soon. Or, Eliza shall be, since I have already done my part.”

“Yes, your highness, congratulations,” Clegg said and stood. He glanced back at the chest of clothes and stack of weapons. “Will you need assistance with packing?”

“Assistance?” Alexis said. “Not yet, no. Once the Treaty of Primes is signed and business is concluded then I’ll be ready to depart. Thank you for being the one to tell me, Clegg. I do appreciate that.”

Alexis stood and clasped the gatekeeper on the shoulders then brought him in for a strong embrace, pressing the older man’s cheek into his chest. He slapped the man’s back twice then pushed him away, nodding at him in gratitude.

The gatekeeper frowned deeply and his brow furrowed even more until it looked as if the holy man’s face would split in two.

“I am sorry, your highness, but you do not understand,” Clegg said. “You are to return to Station Aelon today while the planetary rotation is in synch. To delay would mean a full rotation before you could leave the planet. I can assist you with the packing, but we must depart the Way Prime within the hour.”

Alexis took a step back and watched the old gatekeeper. The minor’s generally easy, affable nature was quickly replaced by a look that those close to the Teirmonts knew all too well.

“I have to sign the treaty first, Clegg,” Alexis said. “Otherwise so many hundreds of loyal Aelons will have died for nothing. This treaty establishes the first hard and fast rules of trade between the stations, their primes, as well as the planetary regulating nature of The Way beyond spiritual guidance and shuttle launches.”

“But, your highness, your father has died,” Clegg said. “Surely that is of greater importance than—”

“If I am to be the new Master of Station Aelon then I cannot let my personal grief overpower my duty,” Alexis said. “I will mourn my father, and prepare for my coronation, as soon as the treaty is signed and I know the future of all Aelish people is secured.”

A twitch at the corner of Clegg’s left eye caught Alexis’s attention, but he said nothing.

“Your highness, I must protest—” Clegg began.

“Protest away, gatekeeper,” Alexis interrupted. “But it will not change my mind. I sign the treaty with the other delegates and then I return to Station Aelon. I know it means another week here on the planet, but that will give me time to return to Aelon Prime and see the homeland before I return to the station and my blood duty. Once I am master, Helios knows when I can return to the planet and Aelon Prime again. The delay before rotational synch couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Yes...of course, your highness,” Clegg replied, bowing slightly as he backed towards the door. “As you see fit.”

“Oh, knock it off, Clegg,” Alexis grimaced. “No need to kowtow to me. You’ve seen me standing in a station passageway with my trousers soiled with my own urine after my uncle nearly shot me with a sling. You were even the one to clean me up. And not just on that occasion.”

The gatekeeper winced as if the memory caused him physical pain.

“But those days have passed, your highness,” Clegg responded. “Whatever history we have shared is no more. You will be crowned Master of Station Aelon and Gatekeeper Lewis will be the new representative from The Way.” He sighed and reached back, grasping the metal handle of the door. His fingers curled tightly around the pocked and pitted surface of the metal loop. “I will inform the delegation that there will be no delay despite the unfortunate circumstances. The signing will remain on schedule as planned.”

“Yes, it will,” Alexis nodded. “I will be there at seventeen-hundred with everyone else and will conduct business just like everyone else. Please inform Gatekeeper Lewis of my intentions and to spread the word that I expect the treaty to be signed before any ceremonies of condolence commence. Can you do that for me, Clegg?”

“Gladly,” Clegg replied as he pulled the door open and stepped into the passageway. “Until then, your highness.”

The holy man bowed once more and backed from the quarters, shutting the door in his wake.

Alexis waited for several minutes before turning his eyes back to the skylight and the sky beyond. He watched the clearness and shook his head back and forth, stunned by its beauty. He knew once he left The Way Prime to travel to Aelon Prime for a last look at the ancestral lands, he would see only Vape clouds and murky oceans. He knew he had to enjoy the wonder above him while he had the chance. His whole world had changed in the blink of an eye.

As if in answer to that thought, he suddenly had to struggle to blink back tears that filled his eyes. The large, heavy drops could not be stopped and they rolled down his ruddy cheeks to his chin where they hesitated, then fell so many feet to the hammered metal floor of his quarters.

* * *

“You’re standing on the hem of my dress,” the girl snapped, her brown eyes glaring daggers up at Alexis. “Move it.”

“Sorry about that,” Alexis laughed, taking an exaggerated jump to the side. “Being as tall as I am, I sometimes forget to look down at where I’m walking.”

“Being as old as you are, you’d think you’d have learned by now,” the girl responded.

“Ha!” Alexis laughed again and knelt by the girl. “I’m only twenty-three, you know. Still young.”

“I’m eight,” the girl smirked. “And you are going to die way before me, so that makes you old.”

“Meredith!” a woman screeched as she wove and diplomatically shoved her way through the throng of envoys, representatives, royalty, and nobility representing the six stations of Helios and their planetary primes. “There you are! I have warned you about letting go of my hand while on the planet!”

“Your hand is sweaty and stinks of breen oil,” the girl, Meredith, barked. “I don’t need a nurse anymore. I’m eight.” She looked over at Alexis and turned up her nose. “But you can get rid of this old geezer. He’s bothering me and was rude.”

“Sir!” the nurse exclaimed as she came upon the two. “Do you know who you are addressing? This is Meredith Herlect, third daughter of the Master of Station Thraen, Paul the Third.”

“That’s a lot of thirds,” Alexis said as he stood up, instantly towering over the woman. “My father is...was a third, as well. But I guess I’ll be a first once I return home.”

The nurse stared at Alexis for a split second then immediately dropped to a knee, her eyes cast down, her voice trembling as she said, “My apologies, your highness. I was not aware it was you. Please forgive me for not realizing it instantly, Master Alexis.”

“Get up, nurse,” Alexis laughed. “There are so many pompous faces around here, mine included. I would expect them to all start being a blur. You’ve done no offense. In fact, you and your ward here have reminded me just what a puffed up show this all is.”

He glanced over at a group of stewards from Station Ploerv. They stood in a tight knit circle, their eyes narrowed and lips curled up at those not from their Station. Alexis looked down at the Minoress Meredith.

“Looks like they are trying to figure out which one farted,” he said, giving the girl a wink.

No matter the intention of her demeanor, an eight year old girl was an eight year old girl, and Meredith couldn’t help but giggle at the word “fart.”

“My lady, it is time for business to start,” the nurse said, hiding her own smile. “I’ll take you to your quarters now.”

“I want to stay,” Meredith snapped.

“And one day you will,” Alexis responded. “Just not today. I had to wait my turn when I was your age. Waiting is not fun.” He leaned down and put his hand to his mouth in exaggerated conspiracy. “And neither are these things, really. I’d rather be out on a cutter, racing towards my prime than stuck in a meeting hall like this.”

“I as well,” a man said, coming up behind Alexis. “Perhaps after the signing I can invite you onto my personal cutter? We are taking a tour of the west coast of Thraen Prime.”

“Minor Paul.” Alexis nodded. “Good to see you. And I will take you up on that offer since I’m missing my rotational synch launch and cannot return to Station Aelon for another week.”

“Why would you return so soon?” asked Minor Paul Herlect, first son and heir of Paul III, Master of Station Thraen. “I’m never in a hurry to return to those floating cans. Even with the Vape ready to cook your insides, I much prefer planetary life on the prime than station life. The day I am forced to stay up there in space will be a sad day indeed.”

“Then enjoy the days you have,” Alexis said, grasping Paul by the shoulder. “They disappear faster than you think.”

“More reason to join me on my cutter,” Paul said.

“So true,” Alexis replied. “But only if your spirited sister will be there.”

“Watch me try to hold her back,” Paul laughed as a bell rang out, signaling the start of the treaty signing. “But, first, duty calls.”

“As it always does,” Alexis smiled as the minor bowed slightly and walked to his delegation’s table.

“I hope to see you later, minoress,” Alexis said, then looked to the nurse. “How is it you know of my father’s passing, and my becoming a master, but his highness does not? Or I assume he does not. If he does then that conversation was more than weird.”

“News travels fast with passengers, your highness,” the nurse responded. “We have less to talk and worry about than the royalty.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that,” Alexis laughed. “But maybe news means more to passengers since the slightest shift in power can upset a passenger’s life, while the royalty insists on finishing lunch first before being bothered with anything.”

Again the nurse had to hide her smile. She curtsied low and then took Meredith’s hand before making her way from the grand hall.

“My lord? I, uh, mean, your highness? Shall we take our seats?” a short, well-fed man asked, his hands clasped across his stout belly.

The man waved his hand towards a row of chairs where the Aelon delegation waited, standing at attention until their monarch was seated.

“Of course, Alasdair,” Alexis nodded.

“Your highness, it would be more appropriate to address me as Steward de Morlan,” de Morlan said as he directed the new master to his seat. “The familiar can upset some of our more formal cousins.”

“Almost everything upsets many of our more formal cousins here.” Alexis frowned as he took his seat.

The Aelish delegation immediately sat down once the master’s chair had been pushed to the table. Alexis looked left then right and nodded and smiled as expected despite his misgivings about most of the other members of the delegation.

Being the new master meant he could clean house and reassign some key posts. He knew he’d have to discuss it all with Eliza once he returned. As long as she was up to the task and not too exhausted from her pregnancy.

Alexis leaned over to de Morlan and whispered, “You have informed the gatekeepers that I want no mention of my father’s death until after the treaty is signed, correct?”

“I did, your highness,” de Morlan replied. “I was assured that the High Guardian would be told of your wishes.”

“Good. Thank you, Alasdair,” Alexis nodded, ignoring the man’s eye roll at his use of the familiar name once again.

Chimes sounded and Alexis found himself back on his feet as High Guardian of The Way, Benedict XI, walked into the room, followed by a train of gatekeepers that looked as if it would never stop. The pontiff limped his way to his chair, which was more ornate and larger than any of the other seats in the room, stood for a moment then almost collapsed into the breen cushions.

He waved a hand and everyone took their seats once again.

“Welcome,” Benedict said. “All thank Helios for the grace of life and gift of our souls.”

“All thank Helios,” the room intoned.

The High Guardian took a deep breath and then began his speech, one he had said a thousand times before many an official occasion.

“Helios—the One True System,” he began. “Planet, Star, System, Deity. Helios is all. Helios is our God and Protector. The Dear Parent who watches over us, watches over our primes, watches over our very souls. Helios, giver of the Vape and grower of breen. Helios—the One True System. May we praise the Dear Parent and all that Helios provides.”

“Praise to the Dear Parent and all that Helios provides,” the room repeated.

“So long ago, our ancestors believed in many gods and goddesses,” Benedict recited from memory. Half the room had to bite their tongues to keep from groaning. “Their belief in those false gods was what led to the Cataclysm; an event so violent that it ripped a continent apart into the primes, sent vast amounts of gas that would be known as Vape into the atmosphere, and forced all of humanity to flee to the safety of the stations and their orbits about the planet.”

He nodded his head six times and everyone in the room did the same.

“Almost all of the knowledge of those first peoples has been lost, but we fear not because Helios provided us with a better understanding of the universe,” Benedict said. “The Dear Parent gave us The Way.”

“The Way,” the room replied.

“Ordaining the gatekeepers as the moral and spiritual guides of all, Helios proved his intentions by allowing The Way Prime to have a clear path on and off the planet. It is the holy miracle that parts the Vape clouds only over this piece of land that shows all the ordained nature of The Way and the gatekeepers. Praise be to the men and women that keep you from sliding into evil and dying in the atmosphere.”

“Praise be to the gatekeepers,” the room droned.

“Helios,” Benedict said quickly, ignoring the lack of enthusiasm. He raised his arms above his head and let his long sleeves slide down to his bony and age-spotted elbows. “By your mercy we live.”

“Helios,” the room said. “By your mercy we live.”

A low noise was heard as everyone present finished the prayer by humming the deepest note they could. The sound was discordant and slightly off putting due to the differences in range, but no one cared as they knew it meant the end of the invocation.

“Thank you. I know we have important business, but first we must all bow our heads in silence for the passing of one of Helios’s chosen,” Benedict sighed. “Henry III, Master of Station Aelon, is no longer with us on this plane and has moved on to travel the System, his corporeal being of no use to him any longer.”

Fists clenched, Alexis kept his anger under control, making sure his face was passive and open as the entire room looked to him. He gave perfunctory nods to those of stations that were once only hours before close to his rank as minor then lowered his head in silence as a set of bells rang six times. There was a long pause and then a final ring to symbolize the singularity of The Way in the eyes of Helios.

“Although you have not been crowned as of yet, Master Alexis,” Benedict said once the last tones of the bells faded away. “I believe, as the only master amongst us, you should open these proceedings with some words of encouragement and wisdom.”

A couple of muffled snickers could be heard, but Alexis couldn’t find the sources. Again, he kept his anger in check and looked about the room.

“Thank you, your holiness,” Alexis said. “I do not have any words planned, and the news of my father’s passing has only reached my ears this hour, so I will keep it brief.”

He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts for a moment.

“As many of you know firsthand, my father was not a leader of any extraordinary measure,” Alexis said. More muffled snickers. “He was brash, fiscally irresponsible, and aloof to many of the basic needs of being a master. His passion was for architecture and engineering, not leadership of an entire station and people.”

“Helios praise his soul,” de Morlan said.

“Yes, Helios praise his soul,” Alexis nodded. “He will be traveling the System, I’m sure, looking for new ways to combine the molecules that bind us all.”

There was some genuine laughter and Alexis smiled.

“May I propose we postpone the signing?” Minor Paul said, standing from his seat across the room from Alexis. “Your grief must be overwhelming and we would not want you to sign out of duty or duress. You were instructed as to what the parameters of the treaty must be by your father, but now you are master and can make your own decisions.”

The room was silent at the interruption; all eyes moved back and forth from Alexis to Paul.

“While I thank the minor for his sentiments,” Alexis said, nodding to Paul. “I do not believe any delay is needed. Despite my admissions to my father’s failings, his wishes as to the future of the primes match mine in almost every way. I will gladly sign the treaty we have agreed upon, as former minor and as newly risen Master of Station Aelon. Having the prime lands on this planet secured and trade agreements in place would be the highest honor I could give my father’s memory.”

He waited for a response from Paul, but the minor merely bowed and took his seat.

“High Guardian?” Alexis said. “May we proceed with the signing?”

“We may,” Benedict nodded, motioning for the gatekeepers in the room to move forward and provide copies of the treaty to each of the head delegates. “Please take your time to read the documents before you. Make sure the wording is as was agreed upon. If it is to your satisfaction then please adorn them with your signature and pass your document to the right. Once all copies are signed then this meeting will be adjourned and we can welcome in a new age to relations between the stations and their primes, as well as between the monarchies and The Way.”

The delegates settled into their seats and began to read the many-paged documents before them.

It would be a long evening.

* * *

“Ahhh, free!” Paul cheered, raising his arms into the air as the royal cutter sped across the steaming ocean of Helios.

Mist rose and curled into streaks, running across the thick glass and polybreen dome that kept the occupants of the cutter from being suffocated and blistered by the planet’s inhospitable atmosphere. The cutter was close to twenty feet long, with a hull that began narrow in the bow and spread into wide, arching wings that glided across the surface of the water towards the stern.

“Relax, Master Alexis,” Paul said, motioning towards an empty cushioned bench across from his own. He glanced over at the small group of Aelish royal guards that stood uncomfortably across from the large contingent of Thraenish royal guards. “And tell your men to relax, as well. They make me nervous. Enjoy the sight of the Vape at night, Alexis. It is a wonder to behold.” He clapped his hands together. “Tell the pilot to cut the ship’s lights. We cannot enjoy the night if all we see are reflections.”

“But, my lord, we would be sailing blind,” a man said from off to Paul’s side. “It would not be safe.”

“We are in the middle of a vast ocean,” Paul snapped. “What could we possibly run into? Tell the pilot now!”

“No need to put us at risk or give the pilot added stress,” Alexis said as he sat down and gave a quick, reassuring nod to his guards. “I’m enjoying the ride as it is.”

“You’re enjoying nothing,” Paul said. “Look at you. I’ve seen passengers with the weeping sickness have more fun than you do now.”

“My father did just pass,” Alexis said, taking a glass of brown liquor from a tray offered to him by one of the ever present servants. “Thank you.”

Paul frowned and waved the servant away then leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. Dressed in a tunic of blue breen material tucked into a pair of dark green breen trousers, Paul tried to give the air of a casual commoner and not the next in line for the mastership of Station Thraen. He would have pulled it off if not for the amount of jewelry and precious metals he wore about his neck, wrists, and fingers.

“My apologies, Master Alexis,” Paul said. “I forget myself when I am out on the water. I’ve always believed that open water is the great equalizer. It doesn’t matter what our place is in the hierarchy of the stations, the waters of Helios could give a shit. If this cutter were to capsize, then we’d all boil and die in seconds, just like the servants around us. Crowned or not, we are flesh and bone.”

There was a sharp hiss and then intake of breath from the corner of the dome and Alexis smiled as he saw the figure of Gatekeeper Clegg tense up. Paul heard it as well and turned to follow Alexis’s gaze.

“Have I offended your sensibilities, gatekeeper? Was my use of such crude language too much for your sheltered ears?” Paul laughed.

“The gatekeeper has heard worse, trust me,” Alexis said. “I believe his less than subtle objection was to your lumping royalty with commoners.”

“Yes, your highness,” Gatekeeper Clegg said quietly. “The hierarchy is important to the stability of the stations. Saying anything less puts the royalty, the nobility, as well as those of us of The Way, at risk for rebellion.”

Paul grimaced in exaggeration and waved his hands about. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He laughed heartily and rolled his eyes. “Not that the passengers or any denizens of our Lower Decks will ever rise up against the status quo. They’d have to learn to think first.”

“You underestimate your people, minor,” Alexis replied. “Societal class hardly dictates a person’s intelligence. I highly doubt I am the smartest person on Station Aelon, and I am almost certain there are passengers living below the station’s surface that could outthink the majority of the stewards, sector wardens, and deck bosses that cling to their supremacy.”

“Ha! Alexis! You surprise me, sir. Do I detect the hint of a revolutionary hiding behind a regal facade?”

“No, Paul, you do not,” Alexis replied. “I don’t believe revolution will help anyone. Helios knows democracy was tried millennia ago and all it did was lead to corruption and slaughter of innocents. No, the monarchy works and it should stay in place.” Alexis leaned forward, matching Paul’s pose. “But maybe we should take advantage of the assets we have in our stations, and down here on the primes, and allow passengers a seat at the table. The voice of the people should be heard, at least.”

“Ah...a populist then.”

“Perhaps,” Alexis nodded.

Minor Paul watched the young master closely, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“Yes...perhaps,” Paul responded finally. “But I’ll let you be the one to tread those waters first. Thraen is stable and happy as it is.”

“Of course,” Alexis nodded and took a sip of his drink. “So is Aelon. But for how long?”

“Forever,” Paul replied. “Helios willing.”

“Praise the Dear Parent,” Clegg murmured.

“Praise the Dear Parent!” Paul echoed loudly.

Alexis turned his attention to the gatekeeper then looked about the dome at the Thraenish servants, guards and dignitaries.

“No gatekeeper of your own?” Alexis asked. “It is my understanding that all ships that traverse the ocean must have a gatekeeper to bless their way.”

“What? Oh, no, not this trip,” Paul said. “I hate traveling with the robes. All that hissing and murmuring.” He turned and smiled at Clegg. “I joke, gatekeeper. No disrespect meant. No, the truth is Gatekeeper Schoul was under the weather. A touch of the planetary trots, if you catch my drift. Your gatekeeper was kind enough to volunteer to accompany us. Although I suspect it was more to keep an eye on you than as a kind gesture to Thraen.”

“Is that so?” Alexis smiled. “How nice of Gatekeeper Clegg.”

The master and the holy man locked eyes for a brief second before their attention was turned to a porter ringing a bell by one of the dome entrances.

“We are approaching Thraen Prime,” the porter announced. “We will be docking shortly. Please prepare to depart on the hallowed grounds of Thraen Prime. Praise the Dear Parent.”

“Praise the Dear Parent,” everyone present repeated.

“Hallowed grounds,” Paul snorted as he stood and stretched. “My father would abandon the prime in a heartbeat if it stopped producing Vape and breen. He hates the planet that much. A station man through and through is Paul III. I, of course, love it here. No intrigue, no politics, no worthless society balls and banquets. Just Vape mining and breen harvesting. Jobs to be done and work to complete, that’s what matters on the prime.”

“I’d almost agree with you there,” Alexis said, “if Station Aelon didn’t house my family which includes my wife, children, and unborn child.”

“That’s right!” Paul exclaimed. “You’re about to have another heir! Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

“Boy or girl? Do you know?”

“A boy,” Alexis smiled.

“Your first?”

“Second,” Alexis replied.

“Very good,” Paul nodded. “Get that succession lined up and secured straight off. I feel sorry for Master Franz of Station Ploerv. All daughters. His brothers are circling the crown like swamp sharks, hoping to put one of their sons into the mastership when the old man finally kicks the bucket.”

“You forget yourself, Minor Paul!” Clegg snapped. “The Mistress Eliza is one of Ploerv’s daughters! You not only insult the Station Ploerv, but you insult the Station Aelon which she married into!”

“Calm down, Clegg,” Alexis laughed. “Minor Paul didn’t mean offense. He was just stating what everyone thinks.”

“It’s a talent of mine,” Paul smiled then stumbled as the cutter lurched to the side. “What was that?”

“Felt like a rough docking,” Alexis said.

The porter quickly returned to the dome, his face red with anxiety and embarrassment.

“I must apologize, my lords and ladies, but there has been a mishap,” he gulped. “The dock appears to have been damaged by the latest Vape storm. We are not able to be pulled into the hangar properly. The pilot insists that we will need to don our environmental suits and walk the distance to the Thraen Prime castle.”

The dignitaries protested and grumbled their dissatisfaction at the indignity of donning the polybreen environmental suits like common prime workers and being forced to risk exposure to the toxic air of the planet. Paul silenced the protests quickly with a wave of his hand.

“Excellent,” he said. “I haven’t had a walk outside the castle in ages. It’ll do us all good to remember the power Helios has over us. Don’t you think, gatekeeper?”

Clegg’s eyes were focused on the sight through the dome of the castle lights far off in the distance. Paul snapped his fingers, bringing the holy man’s attention to him immediately.

“My apologies, my lord, you were saying?” Clegg responded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Paul said. “Maybe you could broadcast a sermon in our helmets while we walk to the castle?”

“I would be honored to—”

“I was joking, of course,” Paul interrupted instantly. “No one wants to be preached at while they worry about whether or not their environmental suit was inspected properly and they could be seconds away from a gruesome death, now do they?”

“No, I suppose not,” Clegg replied, his voice ice and barbed wire.

“I think I have upset your gatekeeper,” Paul whispered as he walked to Alexis and took his elbow. “Now, help me fetch my sister from the bridge, will you? She has always been fascinated by ships and refuses to ride anywhere but up front.”

“I’d be glad to,” Alexis smiled, looking over his shoulder at the fuming gatekeeper. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“I know how to fasten it properly!” Meredith scowled as the nurse fumbled at the clasp seals around her boots. “Get off!”

“Here, let me help,” Alexis said as he knelt down before the minoress. “I have a daughter about your age and I do this for her all the time.”

“I said I can do it!” Meredith snapped. “You’re as bad as my brother. Never letting me do things myself.”

“That’s what my daughter tells me,” Alexis laughed and stood up. He nodded at her boots and smiled as he grabbed his gloves from his belt. “Go ahead. Show me you can do it.”

Meredith scowled even harder and struggled with the clasps. Finally, after having to chastise the nurse again, she got the clasps sealed properly and an audible hiss of compression could be heard from her suit.

“See?” she sneered. “Done.”

“Not quite,” Alexis said, already dressed in his own suit. He grabbed a small helmet from a shelf and handed it to her. “You still have to get that settled.”

Meredith looked at the bulky helmet then up at Alexis. The master tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it as he watched realization dawn on the girl’s face.

“Want help with that?” he asked.

“No,” she said quickly.

“Ready?” Paul asked as he came up to the two, his own helmet tucked under one arm. “Ahh, right. The helmet stage.”

“You’re a jerk,” Meredith growled.

“A jerk that can put his own helmet on,” Paul grinned. “Come on, Master Alexis; let us leave her care to the nurse. We need to chat about the lease holdings on the coast of Thraen prime.”

“You mean the lease holdings that are now part of the treaty we just signed a couple hours ago?” Alexis asked.

“Yes, those,” Paul said, stepping to the airlock that was surrounded by Thraenish guards. He pulled his helmet on and snapped it into place. A hiss was heard then a small internal light came on, signaling a full seal. “Ready?”

“Yes, of course,” Alexis said as he situated his own helmet and spoke through the communications system.

The two royals stood by the airlock as they waited for the guards to make sure the external chamber was clear of any danger. After a couple of seconds they were ushered into the secondary chamber, but not before a quarter of the delegation, along with Minoress Meredith, joined them. Paul rolled his eyes at Alexis and turned a dial on his wrist. He tapped at the dial and indicated for Alexis to follow.

“Can you hear me?” Paul asked.

“I can,” Alexis replied. “I assume this is your personal channel?”

“It is,” Paul replied. “And if anyone dared to eavesdrop they would be stripped and left to the Vape without a moment’s hesitation.”

Alexis looked about at the group, wondering if anyone was eavesdropping, but he saw no change in conversations, reactions, or body language. Yet he didn’t kid himself that their conversation was completely private. Nothing in royal life was completely private. Ever.

Claxons rang out and the outer door slid aside. Guards moved out quickly and established a secure lane for the party to walk along as they made their way across the scrim grass and gas puddles that covered the barren shoreline. They’d gone several yards before Paul spoke again.

“My father never wanted the treaty signed,” Paul admitted. “He thought we were conceding too much by leasing Station Aelon mining rights to the coast of our prime.”

“And what do you think?” Alexis asked. “Are you in agreement with your father?”

“Of course,” Paul nodded. “A dutiful son always agrees with his father. Especially when that father is master of station.”

“I didn’t always agree with my father,” Alexis said.

“And did you ever admit that while he was alive?” Paul asked then backtracked immediately. “My apologies. That was rude.”

“But apt,” Alexis replied. “The answer is no. I never publicly disagreed with him.”

“Then you know my answer,” Paul smiled behind his helmet’s mist coated visor.

“So...why tell me this?”

“Because I want you to be prepared when the Thraen Ambassador calls on you next month,” Paul responded. “He’s been dispatched to Station Aelon for your father’s funeral and is waiting for the official mourning period to end. I can bet he’s already on the top of the diplomatic audience list. Get used to it, the man is persistent.”

“That still doesn’t answer why you are telling me this,” Alexis said. “What do you want?”

“I want the income those leases will produce,” Paul said. “Your father nearly emptied the treasury with all of his remodeling of your station, while mine has spent it on bribes and liquor. Sometimes both at the same time. At least you have a remodeled station to show for it.”

“And Thraen doesn’t have indebted connections with those bribes?”

“Of course, of course, but for how long? The problem with using bribes as a tactic is that anyone you bribe is dishonest enough to be bought by your enemies as well,” Paul laughed. “You are buying deceit, not trust.”

“I’ll keep that in mind once I am crowned,” Alexis said.

“Is that all you talk about? Boring stuff?” Meredith asked from only a couple feet behind them.

“Is she to be stripped and left to the Vape for eavesdropping?” Alexis smiled.

“Unfortunately, no,” Paul responded. “That is out of my power.” He turned quickly and grabbed his sister by the arms. “When father hears you were listening in on official business, he is going to be more than just a little cross with you.”

“Father’s always cross with me,” Meredith replied. “That’s why he sent me here with you. He didn’t want me on Station Thraen mucking it all up.”

“You’re how old?” Alexis laughed. “What could you possibly muck up?”

“You’d be surprised,” Paul snorted. “Now, get off this channel and leave us alone, little girl.”

“Fine,” Meredith growled. “You two are boring anyway.”

Paul and Alexis watched as the girl turned and stalked back to her nurse, her suit crinkling in the night air, sending sparks here and there from the static electricity the scrim grass and Vape created.

“Where were we?” Paul asked.

“The leases,” Alexis said. “I do have to bring up that Station Thraen benefits just as much from the trade agreement we have set with the Flaenish and their breen processing factories. The payments for those mine leases are not just in credits, but in tons of finished breen as well.”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Paul said. “And that is the only reason my father didn’t outright balk at the deal.” He spread his hands. “Thraen Prime is rich with Vape mines, but unlike your prime, we do not have enough good soil to grow the breen we need. It’s a shame since if we could accomplish that we wouldn’t need any of the other stations at all.”

“But then we couldn’t go on cutter rides together,” Alexis grinned.

“Very true,” Paul nodded. “But, let’s move on from—”

He stopped talking and grabbed Alexis by the arm as two of the guards in front of them collapsed to the ground. Alexis instantly went to draw his long sword, but realized it was back at The Way Prime in his quarters with his other weapons. He could have kicked himself for the mistake.

“Down!” Alexis yelled as he tackled Paul to the ground.

A slight tink sounded and he realized a flechette had hit his helmet’s visor. Someone was shooting a sling at them!

“Are you hit?” Alexis asked.

“No. You?” Paul replied.

“No, I’m fine,” Alexis said.

Then a scream filled their ears and Alexis looked over to see Meredith crumple to the dirt.

“My lord, you have to come with us now!” a Thraen guard shouted at Paul as half a dozen men surrounded him.

“My sister! The minoress!” Paul yelled, but he was swept away by his security detail.

Others in the delegation began to panic and stampede towards the waiting airlock of Thraen Prime Castle, ignoring the collapsed royal at their feet.

“I have her!” Alexis yelled and sprinted towards the fallen girl.

He raced to Meredith, fighting against the flow of the frightened crowd. Alexis fell to his knees and tried to find where she had been hit. He quickly saw the oxygen flowing out of a hole in her suit near her shoulder. He could already see the small sparks of combustion from the mixture of oxygen and Vape and knew he didn’t have long to get her to safety before her environmental suit filled with flames.

“Move!” Alexis yelled as he lifted the girl up in his arms. But the crowd was deaf, hearing only their own fear and self preservation.

He was jostled from side to side, shoved this way and that, no one caring about the Aelish royal seal emblazoned on his suit. But the crowd’s disregard for his status was what saved him as he was knocked to one knee just as a long blade came towards the place his head had been a split second before.

Alexis looked up in time to see the second strike come at him and he rolled to the side, his body protecting the young minoress, from the long blade that imbedded itself in the scrim grass by his head. The new master didn’t recognize the cut of the breen suit the attacker wore, but did recognize the style of the blade.

The Burdened.

The elite guard of The Way and only members of the religious order sanctified to kill without fear of eternal damnation at the center of the Helios sun.

Alexis barely had time to register that revelation before the blade came at him again. He lashed out with a hard kick to the man’s knee and the blade missed its mark once more as the assassin fell to the grass. Very aware of the minoress’s distress, Alexis leapt onto the man and dug his fingers up under the clasps sealing the helmet to the suit. With one tremendous yank, Alexis ripped the helmet off, exposing the man to the atmosphere of Helios and the deadly Vape.

The face he saw bubbling and blistering before him was not one he recognized and gave Alexis no clue as to who might have ordered the attack.

“Who sent you?” Alexis yelled, but the dying man couldn’t hear him without the communication system in his helmet. “Tell me who ordered this!”

The man struggled under Alexis’s grip and clawed at the master’s hands that held him to the scrim grass. Scrim grass that was quickly covered with the liquefied skin and muscle that sloughed off the assassin. Bright purple sparks flitted around the man’s eyes, mouth and nostrils as the oxygen in the blood that leaked out was ignited by Vape.

Hands grabbed at Alexis as his personal contingent of guards were finally able to fight through the crowd to get to him. They pulled him to his feet as the assassin took his last breath and his chest cavity burst open, spewing tissue and blood across the ground. Alexis raised a boot and let it fall hard on the man’s skull, crushing the bone into the grass.

“The minoress!” Alexis yelled at his men. “Take her and hurry!”

“Your safety comes first, your highness!” a guard named Corbin Breach shouted.

“To Helios with my safety!” Alexis yelled. “She’s dying!”

Corbin nodded and quickly lifted the girl up. “Cover him the whole way!” he ordered the other guards then took off running towards the airlock.

The Aelish Royal Guard looked at each other then at the master and closed ranks, making sure no one could get through to their monarch. They moved forward quickly, eyes cast about the area, ready for the next strike.

The night was a haze of Vape fog and mist rising from the scrim grass at their feet, making it almost impossible to discern shapes smaller than the castle ahead of them. The guards pushed the master along, never letting him slow even as he stumbled over clumps of grass and dirt. They held him by his arms and kept him on his feet, but soon half of them were no longer on theirs.

Guards fell left and right as their suits were ripped open by a flurry of flechettes. Alexis watched in horror as his men died horrible, Vape deaths. Flames filled suits as the Vape seeped in and mixed with the oxygen. The men’s screams were soon nothing but gurgles from charred and roasted throats.

Two shapes came at Alexis from the fog and he reached down and picked up a dropped long blade and then a short blade. He raised the long blade just as one of the shapes rushed him, meeting his metal with more metal. The hollow clang of the blades colliding could be heard even through Alexis’s helmet. He felt the impact up his arm, but didn’t let the jarring pain slow him.

With one fluid movement, Alexis ducked low and jammed the short blade into the attacker’s gut. The man shuddered as blood gushed and sparked from the wound. Alexis pulled the blade free then shoved the man to the side as he brought down his long blade. The helmet, with head still inside, flew from the man’s shoulders and tumbled through the air.

The second attacker paused, seeing what had befallen his comrade. That was pause was his undoing as Alexis flipped his short blade in his hand, gripped it blade first, and threw. The weapon flew end over end at the second man and pierced the man’s visor before he could think of sidestepping.

Alexis didn’t wait for the man to fall to the ground before he took off towards the castle. He could see Corbin’s shrouded back several yards ahead, but could also see shadows off to each side closing in on him. Long blade still in hand, Alexis dug deep and pushed himself as he sprinted towards his guard and the wounded minoress.

“Down!” Alexis roared.

Corbin hesitated, but then saw he was penned in and quickly skidded to a halt, dropping to both knees while keeping the minoress secure in his arms. Alexis reached the man just as the attackers from each side did. They turned to face the master, but neither was fast enough as Alexis lashed out, severing two heads with one swipe of his long blade.

“Get up,” Alexis cried as he pulled at Corbin’s upper arm. “We’re almost there.”

Corbin didn’t say a word, too stunned to have been rescued by the man he was sworn to protect. Alexis yanked him to his feet and shoved him towards the airlock.

“Open up!” Alexis shouted as he looked about, ready for the next attack. His hand was at the small of Corbin’s back and he pushed the guard on, urging him to run faster. “Open the airlock now!”

They reached the castle wall and a face appeared in the thick glass porthole of the airlock door. Gatekeeper Clegg.

“Thank Helios!” Alexis yelled as the airlock opened and they rushed inside.

Or Corbin and Meredith rushed inside. Alexis’s path was blocked by the gatekeeper.

“Clegg? Move,” Alexis said then saw what the holy man held.

“I am truly sorry, your highness,” Clegg said as he thrust the blade into Alexis’s belly. “But I know you. You will change things in ways we cannot allow.”

Alexis fell to his knees, taking the blade with him. He looked up into the helmeted face of his former teacher and childhood mentor.

“Clegg…” he whispered.

“Hush now, young master,” Clegg said. “Let Helios take you. It will all be over so—”

The inside of his helmet’s visor was splattered with blood as Corbin shoved a blade through the back of the gatekeeper’s head. The guard shoved the traitor aside and dropped to the wounded master.

“Your highness? Oh, Helios, no,” Corbin said as he took Alexis in his arms. “No, this can’t be. I failed you.”

“Is she still alive?” Alexis grunted. “The minoress? Is she still alive?”

“Yes, your highness,” Corbin nodded. “But barely.”

“Make sure she doesn’t die and you will have not failed me,” Alexis said. “She has such a rich life to lead. Tell her that for me, will you?”

“Yes, your highness,” Corbin said, his eyes looking at the blade that protruded from his monarch’s belly. Then he looked at the bleeding man’s helmet and gasped at the glazed eyes. “Master Alexis? Master Alexis!”

Chapter Two

The long, sleek shuttle cut through the vacuum of space as it made its approach to the slowly spinning Station Aelon. Over four hundred feet long with a diameter of one hundred feet, the Thraenish shuttle adjusted its trajectory by firing Vape thrusters from coordinated jets so the nose pointed directly at the large shuttle dock port on the east side of the station.

“Prepare braking jets,” the captain said as he made several adjustments from his seat in the fore cockpit.

When the time came for the shuttle to leave the station the flight crew would take their places in an exact copy of the cockpit, but in the aft end of the shuttle since the massive vehicle was perfectly symmetrical. Unlike the shuttles that transported people, goods, and equipment from station to planet, the shuttles that travelled from station to station only needed simple thrusters and could be shaped as perfect cylinders, letting them dock and depart with ease.

“Approach trajectory locked,” the co-pilot announced. “Braking jets firing in three, two, one.”

Vape gas erupted in small bursts from the front of the shuttle, slowing its speed until it barely coasted towards the docking port that quickly irised open. The flight crew kept all eyes on the instruments, making sure no last second adjustments needed to be made the synchronized docking protocol. But, as was the case with the dozens of shuttles that came and went from station to station, not a problem was detected and the shuttle easily locked into place inside Station Aelon.

The captain looked over his shoulder at the grim faced guard that sat in one of the jump seats.

“Your master has been delivered home,” the captain said. “You are free to depart when he is ready. Will you need any of the crew’s assistance?”

“No, thank you,” Corbin said as he unbuckled and stood up from the seat. “I have this well in hand. Please let your crew know we appreciate their accommodating us, as I am sure you are not used to having royalty travel aboard the vessel.”

“Our pleasure,” the captain nodded. “Breaks up the monotony.”

Corbin didn’t respond, just nodded and left the cockpit to take his place as protector of the new Master of Station Aelon.

“Pleasant chap,” the co-pilot smirked. “He should be more serious about his job.”

“Couldn’t pay me to work directly with the royalty,” the captain replied. “Now, how about we shut down and go find a bar? I could use a bottle or two of gelberry wine.”

“Praise Helios to that,” the co-pilot laughed.

* * *

“Calm yourself, mistress,” Stewardess Lesha de Morlan said to the pacing Mistress Eliza. “The master will be fine. In your condition you cannot let yourself get upset.”

“But you saw him, Lesha,” Eliza frowned. “In the transmissions. He looked so pale and sickly.”

“That’s the transmissions, not the master,” Lesha sighed. “Everyone looks pale and sickly in those grainy pictures.”

“Well, you would think someone would fix that!” Eliza snapped. “We live in space, but we can’t communicate without static and interference? We are barbarians compared to our ancestors.”

“So much knowledge was lost when humanity was forced from the planet, mistress,” Lesha said. “We should be thankful to Helios that we survived as a people. Feel lucky the techs got the transmission to come through at all.”

“Survival is not life, Lesha,” Eliza frowned. “It is the postponement of death. I vow from this day forward that I will not be a survivor, but a liver.”

“A liver, your highness?” Lesha smiled. “Shall I fetch you a robe of caramelized onions?”

“Oh, shut up,” Eliza grinned. “You know what I mean.”

She winced and grabbed at her swollen belly, grunting as a sharp pain forced her to take a seat on her bed.

“Mistress? Eliza?” Lesha said, her worry pushing away all formality. “What is it? Is the baby alright?”

“Gas,” Eliza said. “That’s all. A gas pain. I haven’t voided in two days. It’s a wonder my pores aren’t seeping shit.”

“Mistress,” Lesha laughed. “As distressful as that sounds, you still have to keep your composure as mistress of the station. Pores seeping shit, is not something you want to share.”

“I’ll share every last shit seeping detail,” Eliza snapped. “I have the heir to the crown sitting on my bladder and kicking me in the lungs every five seconds. The station can kiss my backed up ass with their composure.”

Lesha sat next to the woman that was twenty years her junior and took her in her arms. “It will be over soon, your highness. The physicians will make you comfortable during labor and then you can cradle your newborn son in your arms and forget all about troubled bowels.”

“I’ll probably drop a crap as heavy as my son when the birthing starts,” Eliza said. “There’s no way one is coming out without the other.”

Lesha laughed heartily and kissed the young mistress on the forehead. “I do love you, your highness.”

“I love you too, Lesha,” Eliza said. “Now help me back up so I can be standing when my love walks through that door.”

No sooner had the mistress been helped to her feet than there was a chime at the entry door to the royal quarters. Even being four times the size of any other quarters within Castle Quent—the master’s and mistress’s main residence on the surface of station Aelon—it only took a brief few steps to reach the door. Station Aelon had still not caught up with the other stations’ trend of updating the surface castles and keeps into sumptuous manor houses and estate mansions.

It was something Alexis had promised his wife he would begin to correct upon his return from Helios, but that promise was delayed by months as the master convalesced on Station Thraen. Eliza wondered if her husband would have the strength to lead his people, let alone tackle something as superficial as the renovations of their various residences across the Surface of Station Aelon.

“Breathe, your highness,” Lesha whispered into her mistress’s ear. “He will be just as you remember him.”

The door to the quarters slid open and several royal guards stepped into the quarters, their eyes taking in every detail of the room.

“Are we safe, my lady?” Corbin asked as he took one step forward and addressed Stewardess de Morlan.

“We are safe, Mr. Breach,” Lesha replied.

“Your highness,” Corbin said to Eliza as he bowed low. “I am pleased to present your husband, Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First.”

“Oh, move it, will you?” Eliza said as she hurried forward and shoved the head of the royal guard out of the way, patting her belly at the same time. “You don’t have to introduce me to the man that did this to my body. We are well acquainted, I assure you.”

“Of course, your highness,” Corbin said as he stumbled and was helped from falling by a steady hand from Stewardess de Morlan.

“Hello, my love,” Alexis said as he strode past the guards and took his wife into his arms. “Miss me?”

“Yes, I bloody well missed you, you stupid, heroic idiot!” Eliza cried, letting herself be wrapped inside the embrace of a man that stood almost two feet taller than she. They kissed long and hard before Eliza finally let their lips part and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I never feel whole without my Longshanks about.”

“Ugh,” Alexis groaned. “I hate that name.”

“Well, I love it,” Eliza said, her face buried in his chest. “My Longshanks. He stands above us all, but can never be apart.”

“Where did that come from?” Alexis frowned. “Is there already poetry about me?”

“My husband wrote it as part of the welcoming campaign,” Lesha said. “The people have been nervous with you gone and the coronation happening on a foreign station. There has been grumbling that you have forgotten the Aelish and become a supporter of Thraen.”

“A man gets stabbed in the belly by a traitor and this is the thanks I get?” Alexis laughed. “The people never cease to amaze me.”

“It is a small faction, your highness,” Corbin said. “The vast majority would never think such a thing.”

“But all it takes is a small faction to foment talks of rebellion,” Lesha countered. “Thus my husband’s plan to rebrand you as Longshanks, Alexis the First, Master of Station Aelon.”

“And not son of Henry III,” Alexis replied. “Which I think is Alasdair’s true goal. My father was a great man, but not a great master. I’m sure my supporters are looking for any way to distance me from the previous reign.”

“Well, they can’t distance you from your current brother,” Minor Derrick Teirmont laughed as he stood behind the row of guards blocking the door. “Even if I was your brother during the previous reign as well.” He looked at the guards then in at his brother. “Do you mind?”

“Please clear the way for my brother,” Alexis ordered. “And never block him from me again.”

“My apologies, your highness,” Corbin said, bowing his head. “I gave my men strict orders that no one was to be trusted no matter how close they are to you personally. I believe recent events have proven that to be a wise course of security.”

“I’ll have to make a list of exceptions,” Alexis nodded. “I can’t have my family barred from me every time I move to a new room.”

“Yes, your highness,” Corbin said. He looked at the faces of the royals then at his master. “I will leave you to your reunion. Guards will be posted outside your quarters, if you need them. I am only a call away, as always.”

“Thank you, Corbin,” Alexis said. “Go have your own reunion. Two days leave, and no argument, for those that were forced to stay with me on Station Thraen. You should all see your loved ones and get some rest.”

“None of us were forced, your highness,” Corbin replied. “It was our honor and duty.”

“Get,” Alexis said, waving the man off. “Now.”

Corbin bowed low and then turned and strode from the royal quarters, his men following in step.

“So, let’s see the scar,” Derrick smiled. “Can’t have a war wound and not show it off.”

“That would be my cue to leave,” Lesha said. She looked at the mistress who was still tightly wrapped about her husband. “You need to rest as well. Please take a nap as soon as you can.” Her eyes shifted to Alexis. “I trust you will see to that, your highness.”

“Yes, mum,” Alexis smiled.

“Don’t be cheeky,” Lesha smiled back. “I changed your diapers more than once.”

“As you have reminded me my entire life, Lesha,” Alexis nodded. “Please tell Alasdair I will come see him as soon as I can.”

“I will, your highness,” Lesha replied as she started to leave then paused. “It is good to have you back...Longshanks.”

“Go,” Alexis growled.

Lesha left with a chuckle, leaving Derrick to stand there and wait.

“What?” Alexis asked.

“The scar!” Derrick said. “Let’s see it!”

“Leave him alone, Rick,” Eliza snapped. “He’s just gotten home and you’re already pestering him.”

“Knock it off, you two,” Alexis said. “I’ll show you the scar, but then you leave me with my wife, alright?”

“Sure, kicking me out already,” Derrick grinned, clasping his brother on the shoulder. “It is good to see you home. I’d prefer not to be regent again. Can we have our dear sister, Melinda, do it next time? She is older than us both.”

“If the stewards won’t accept a woman as ruler of the station then they certainly won’t let her be regent,” Alexis said. “As much as I disagree with the notion.” He looked about the quarters and realized something was missing. “Where are the children?”

“With Melinda right now,” Eliza said. “She thought we’d want some time alone.”

“I get it, I get it,” Derrick replied, his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go.”

“Hold on,” Alexis said and gently removed himself from his wife. “Take a look at this.”

He pulled his tunic from his trousers and lifted it up over his abdomen. He peeled back the long, and soiled, bandage that was pasted just below his ribs. Both his wife and brother gasped involuntarily at the sight of the several inch long gash across his side and belly.

“Is it infected? It looks infected,” Eliza worried.

“It’s still draining,” Alexis said. “The physician said it could be weeks, maybe even months, before it stops doing that. I’m looking at a year of keeping it clean in order for it to heal up properly.”

“A year? Why so long?” Eliza asked.

“The Vape,” Derrick frowned. “Once that gets in there it’s near impossible to get clean air to the wound.”

“Exactly,” Alexis responded. “It’s why wars on the planet are so deadly. You know the saying—”

“You don’t have to kill ‘em, just wound ‘em,” Derrick finished.

“I know what you are thinking,” Alexis said, seeing the look on his wife’s face. “And not even the ones that came before us could heal this any faster. It’s why they left the planet to settle in space. The Vape always wins.”

“Well, I’ve had my gore for the day,” Derrick said, embracing his brother. “Get well, Al. Want me to have Melinda bring the kids?”

“No, we’ll fetch them,” Alexis said. “I think I’m going to clean up and have a nap. They’ll be fine until then.”

“Rest up, brother,” Derrick said then bowed low. “Or, I should say, rest up, my liege.”

“Kiss my ass,” Alexis said and feigned a kick at his brother.

“My mistress,” Derrick said to Eliza then slid the door open and left.

Once the door was closed again, Alexis took his wife up in his arms.

“Longshanks? Really? Is that truly catching on?”

“It’s always been there,” Eliza laughed as she was carried to the bed and set down softly on the breen comforter. “You know that. Even before we met I had heard of the tall young man called Longshanks.”

“Helios, have they been calling me that since then?” Alexis laughed. “We met when we were ten and wed at thirteen. I wasn’t that tall yet!”

“Yes, you were,” Eliza said as she slid her hands up under her maternity dress, coming away with her underpants. “You have always been my handsome, tall minor. Now my master.”

“And now you are my mistress,” Alexis smiled at her then looked at her belly. “What about the baby?”

“He can’t see us,” Eliza grinned, lust in her eyes. “And the midwife says it’s good for me. Helps prepare for an easier birth.”

“Well, if the midwife says so,” Alexis replied as he pulled his tunic off and quickly shimmied out of his trousers. He climbed onto the bed and his hands slid up her legs to the insides of her thighs. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

“Well, if you’d just stay here you wouldn’t have to miss me,” Eliza said as Alexis’s hands moved up higher. “Promise me we won’t part again.”

“You know I can’t make that promise,” Alexis said, his mouth going to her neck.

Eliza’s hand traced the outline of his abdomen, careful to avoid the bandage, and then trailed down to below. She gripped him hard and fast.

“Promise me,” she sneered.

“E! Ow!” he cried out.

There was instantly a knock at the door. “Are you alright, your highness?”

Eliza started to giggle, but didn’t let go. “Are you, my master?”

“Yes!” he called out. “I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are,” Eliza said as she rolled to her side and wrapped Alexis’s arms about her then pulled her dress all the way up. “Now make me fine, Master of Station Aelon. That’s your first official duty.”

“If it’s my duty then it’s my duty,” he laughed.

* * *

“Father!” a small girl of four shouted as the door slid open and in walked Alexis and Eliza, arm in arm. “You’re back!”

“I am, my little Bora,” Alexis said. “And I missed you.”

Two more children, a boy of three and girl of six, both blonde like their father, came running at him and he had to brace his legs to keep from being bowled over.

“I hope I get these types of greetings every time you see me,” Alexis said.

“Do you also hope to get stabbed every time you leave?” the six year old asked, her eyes locking with her father’s.

“Esther,” Eliza snapped. “Knock it off.”

“I don’t know where she gets a tongue like that so young,” a tall woman, red haired and fair, said as she strode forward, a breen shawl around her shoulders that hung down over her bright blue tunic and down to the waist of her deep red trousers. “It’s not like the two of you are mouthy at all.”

“Helios, I miss trousers,” Eliza said as she eased her bulk into a chair. “I can’t stand the draft that’s constantly blowing up this maternity dress. I feel like my cooch is just hanging free most of the time.”

“And my point is made,” Minoress Melinda Teirmont said as she casually pushed the children aside and hugged her brother. “Welcome back, Al.”

“Master Al,” Alexis smirked

“Yeah, that’s not going to fly with me, son,” Melinda laughed. “I changed your diapers.”

“Why does everyone insist on bringing that up? A man becomes master of station and every woman around him has to point out how they’ve wiped my ass when I was a baby.”

“We don’t want power going to your head,” Melinda said, rapping her knuckles on his forehead. “We all know how that turns out.”

“Grandfather,” Esther said.

“Not your grandfather,” Melinda corrected, looking at her brother. “Our grandfather. The man nearly lost the station because of his ego.”

“He was more mean than egotistical,” Alexis said. “I don’t think he actually cared about the slights he punished people for, he just wanted to punish.”

“But you are not your grandfather or your father,” Eliza said.

“No, I’m not,” Alexis said then looked down at the boy that had moved to hover by his mother’s chair. “And how is the future master of station? Last time I saw you, you were getting over another cold.”

“I threw up,” the boy, Thomas, said. “Aunty Melmel got mad.”

“I did not, you little bugger,” Melinda said then shrugged. “Well, maybe a little mad. But he got sick all over my new rug. I just had it imported from Station Flaen. Six months I waited for it to arrive because of all the havoc your damn Prime Treaty caused. Gummed up trade forever.”

“And now that trade is flowing free,” Alexis said, taking a bow. “Thanks very much to your little brother.”

“Oh, I’m sure others played a part,” Melinda scowled. “Careful of that master ego.”

“I was only a minor when I was on the planet,” Alexis said.

“But a master when you signed the treaty,” Melinda countered. “My warning still stands.”

“You two,” Eliza sighed. “Exhausting.”

Melinda frowned at her sister-in-law. “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”

“Still inside me,” Eliza grumbled. “I’d give my left tit if you’d take it out for me.”

“Mother!” Esther snapped. “The little ones!”

“Says the six year old,” Eliza said, holding out her arms. Esther came to her and was wrapped up instantly. “You talk like an old woman sometimes. Relax, little girl. You’ll grow up too fast for your mother’s heart.”

Alexis sighed and closed his eyes for a second.

“Al? Are you alright?” Eliza asked.

“Sit,” Melinda responded.

“No, I’m fine. Just tired,” Alexis replied. “Let’s gather these little ones and get back to our quarters. I think I could rest for a bit. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“Tomorrow?” Melinda asked.

“I’ve called a meeting of stewards,” Alexis replied.

“Aren’t all meetings of the stewards?” Melinda smiled.

“Not for long,” Alexis smiled back. “This master plans on making some changes.”

Melinda narrowed her eyes and then looked at Eliza. “What is he up to?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Eliza said. “But I’ll find out and let you know.”

“I’m standing right here,” Alexis said as he ushered his children towards the door. “At least conspire when I’m out of earshot.”

“Shall I call a nurse for the children so you two can rest?” Melinda asked. “Or they could just stay here like I’ve offered a hundred times. I really don’t mind.”

“No, we won’t need a nurse,” Alexis replied. “This isn’t Thraen.”

* * *

“A toast to our new master! May Helios bless him with a long reign and many heirs!” de Morlan said as he stood and lifted a glass of gelberry wine.

The men seated at the long table all stood and lifted their glasses.

“May Helios bless him!” they toasted.

A sip was taken by each and they quickly sat back down, all eyes cast to the young master at the head of the table.

“Thank you,” Alexis nodded as he stood and raised his glass. He winced slightly and his free hand involuntarily went to his wound. “I wish I could truly enjoy this, but I’m afraid the physicians have me on water and lemon tea for the next few weeks. Apparently a pint of gelberry wine is too much for me in my delicate state.”

The table laughed and glasses were raised once more.

“I thought the mistress was the one in the delicate state!” someone shouted.

“Are you expecting as well, your highness?” another added.

“Ha, funny,” Alexis said. “And, while on the subject of my wife’s condition, I have been told by the midwife to expect my new son in the next day or two. Another heir will be added to the line of succession, assuring the people that the reign of Family Teirmont will continue for at least another generation.”

More raised glasses, laughter, and applause.

“But, until I am called away to attend to that splendid occasion, I am here at the stewards’ disposal,” Alexis said as he sat down. “I know there have been issues that my father shoved to the side while on his campaign of rebuilding Station Aelon. I think it only fair that I give each of you time to discuss those issues and air any grievances you may have.”

The table of stewards all looked at him, surprised by his request.

“Your highness, surely you would rather have these types of discussions in private,” de Morlan suggested. He was seated to Alexis’s left while Derrick was seated across the table to the master’s right. De Morlan looked down the table at the confused faces then back to the master. “Some subjects may be of a sensitive nature.”

“Oh, I am well aware of sensitive subjects,” Alexis said. “I have had to tiptoe around dozens of gatekeepers and even the High Guardian himself these past months. Which is exactly why I believe we need to have all meetings open. At least when amongst the stewards. We have to show an example to the passengers.”

There was a tense and confused silence.

“Uh, the passengers, your highness?” another man asked, Steward Emeric Hume. “Our posts as stewards are example enough to the commoners.”

“If only that were true, Hume,” Alexis said. “But we all know that it is not.”

“I do not mean to disagree, your highness—”

“Then don’t,” Alexis grinned. “Especially when you have no idea what you are disagreeing with.”

Steward Hume nodded and went quiet.

“Perhaps you’d like to illuminate us with what it is we should be disagreeing about,” a young man said as he walked into the great hall. “My apologies for being late, your highness. My skid broke down on my way from Sector Kirke. I was forced to walk the last bit of the way. I took the liberty of showering in my guest quarters here at court before joining you. Wouldn’t do to have the steward of Sectors Kirke, Shem, Maelphy and Bueke smelling like the lower decks.”

The man, average height with dark hair and deep set brown eyes, took his chair next to Derrick. He nodded to the master and then tapped a glass and looked to the wall of the great hall.

“No gelberry wine for me?” he grinned, leaning forward and peering into the master’s glass. “Maybe I should indulge in some water like your highness. It could be a trend of sobriety that the station could follow.”

“I believe life is hard enough as it is, Cousin Stolt,” Alexis said. “I wouldn’t dare condemn my people to that.”

“Nor I,” Stolt said as a servant filled his glass with the deep pink liquid. He lifted his glass to Alexis. “A long and interesting life.”

“That toast could be considered a curse, Cousin,” Alexis said.

“It was not meant as such,” Stolt responded after taking a long drink. “And I thank you for always acknowledging our blood ties.”

“Yes, of course,” Alexis smiled. “Oh, and congratulations on your recent marriage! I am sorry my convalescence prevented me from attending. You must be proud to add Sectors Maelphy and Bueke to your holdings.”

“More proud to have such a lovely woman as my wife,” Stolt said. “While I do have plenty of children to carry on my name, Gloria is still of childbearing age and will produce fine offspring.”

“Just in case,” Alexis replied.

“Just in case, indeed,” Stolt laughed.

“You speak of your wife as if she were a common shaow heifer just waiting to be milked,” Derrick snapped. “You know that Gloria is also our cousin on our mother’s side, don’t you, Cousin? She may not be Family Teirmont, but she is family to me and my brother.”

“Rick,” Alexis said quietly. “Cousin Stolt was just expressing his happiness at the new marriage in the context as steward. We all must look to our lineage. You never know when a plague could hit the station and take those we most love away from us.”

“Helios forbid,” Stolt said and clenched a fist then made an X across his chest.

“Helios forbid,” the rest of the table said and all X’ed themselves as well.

“So, what is this about the passengers that has Steward Hume so worked up?” Stolt asked after finishing half his glass in one swallow.

“I am not worked up, sir,” Hume grumbled.

“No, I quite expected some to get worked up,” Alexis said. “What I propose will upset a great many of you.”

The room was deathly silent and not a steward dared move as they waited for the master to explain.

“You all know why I was sent down to Helios,” Alexis began. “It was a crusade to wrest control of The Way Prime from the gatekeepers and the High Guardian. Which was my idea and not my father’s.”

There were chuckles as well as grumbles from the assembly.

“Not the most popular campaign, I know,” Alexis laughed. “But one I felt passionate about. The Way Prime is the only land on all of Helios with sky clear enough, and stable enough, to allow station transports to land and launch. Without The Way Prime we cannot get men and supplies down to the planet for our own prime, nor can we bring the canisters of Vape we mine back to Station Aelon. The Way controls all trade and movement on and off the Helios planet.”

“But you didn’t secure control, did you, your highness?” Stolt asked, his face nothing but innocence and inquiry.

“No, I did not,” Alexis admitted. “I expected, and was assured, the support of the other stations, but one by one they withdrew that support, Thraen being the last, and I was left to make a hard decision.” He looked down the table, making eye contact with each and every steward. “I could keep fighting, and most likely lose Aelon Prime, or I could sit down with the The Way and work out a more agreeable compact between them and the stations. The latter was the prudent choice.”

“And the only choice,” de Morlan added.

“How many men did we lose before that choice was made?” Stolt asked. “I know of four hundred alone from my sectors that did not return.”

“We lost over three thousand men,” Alexis said. “Good men. Loyal men. Men I wish I could resurrect and bring back to their families right this second.”

“Resurrection is The Way’s purview,” Stolt laughed. “You should have added that to the negotiations.”

“Careful, Cousin,” Derrick growled. “You overstep.”

“It’s alright, Rick,” Alexis said. “If I believed they could be brought back then I would have negotiated those terms as well. But they cannot be brought back. What can be done is their memories are honored, and the memories of all that have fallen in campaigns for Station Aelon, by establishing a new meeting. The meeting of passengers.”

Alexis sat back and watched that news set in. He looked at his brother, whose eyes were wide with surprise, then looked at de Morlan who looked like he was suffering a case of serious indigestion. The table erupted into excited and angry chatter. Only Steward Stolt seemed nonplussed by the news.

The man emptied his glass then held it out for a servant to fill once more. He raised the full glass towards Alexis and winked.

“All the luck in the System with this one, your highness,” Stolt grinned.

“No luck needed,” Alexis said. “It is within my power to create new legislative bodies for the governance of the station. I am doing just that.”

“But, your highness,” an obese man at the far end of the table exclaimed. “Passengers? Passengers are to be ruled, not consulted on how to rule!”

“They won’t be consulted at all,” Alexis responded to Steward Nele Gervès. “That is not the point. They will rule alongside the meeting of stewards. An equal body in all senses and powers.”

“Oh, Helios,” Derrick said, hanging his head in his hands as the great hall erupted into shouts and protests, the stewards completely throwing off all decorum. “What have you done, Brother?”

“I have kept a promise,” Alexis said. “That is something I plan on always doing as master.”

“Do you have any idea how naïve that sounds?” Derrick asked, lifting his face from his hands to look at his brother. “Being master means breaking promises constantly. You do what you have to for the good of the station.” He waved a hand down the table. “Does this look like it will do good for the station?”

“I believe it will,” Alexis said. “Once the stewards calm down.”

“Quiet!” de Morlan shouted, standing and pounding his hands on the table. “Be quiet! All of you!”

It was another couple minutes before the stewards settled down enough for Alexis to continue. When the master spoke again, he was addressing a very hostile audience.

“To appease you all, I will say that members of the meeting of passengers will be appointed by the stewards from the sector wardens and deck bosses,” Alexis said.

“That will limit the chaos and pool to choose from,” Stolt said. “I like that rule.”

“But,” Alexis said, looking at the steward. “You men will need to choose wisely who you appoint. A provision will be in place for the passengers to recall their representatives and choose one of their own if the members are found to be favoring the interests of the stewards and not the passengers. The entire point of this is to allow the people a voice and hand in their own governance.”

“This sounds dangerously like democracy, your highness,” Steward Jacon Oweyn stated. A man of advanced age, he was the elder of all stewards. “History has shown that democracy does not work on the stations. That is why the monarchy and stewardships were created millennia ago. The people cannot be trusted to rule; they do not have the stomach for it.”

“The people will not rule,” Alexis said. “Just like the stewards do not rule. The only ruler on Station Aelon is the master. Or have you forgotten this fact, Steward Oweyn?”

“I meant no insult, your highness,” Oweyn said then nodded to those around him. “I just wanted to make an observation regarding your proposal.”

“It is not a proposal,” Alexis said. “It’s a ruling.” He snapped his fingers and porters waiting by the walls stepped forward with papers in hand. “Because that is what rulers do, they rule.”

The papers were set in front of each steward and soon all eyes were cast down at the table and the writs handed them.

“To take effect immediately?” Steward Horach Gylis asked. “But we have not had time to decide who will be the members of this meeting!”

“You will have three days to return to your sectors and interview your candidates,” Alexis said, standing up to indicate the meeting was over. “I plan on touring each sector myself starting in four days. This way I can gauge the mood of the people as well as meet your chosen candidates. Once my tour is completed I will make the candidates’ posts official and the first meeting of passengers will be called. As well as another meeting of stewards, marking the first annual conjoined meeting.”

The stewards all stared at their master until de Morlan stood up and gave a small bow towards the head of the table.

“Of course, your highness,” de Morlan said. “I would welcome a royal tour of my sector, as I am sure my colleagues would as well.”

Slowly, one by one, the rest of the stewards stood and bowed to Alexis. Stolt was the last to stand and his eyes never left Alexis’s when he bowed.

“Read your papers,” Alexis said. “I believe you will find that my ruling is not as horrendous as you think it may be. With another legislative body, the blame when things go wrong can be spread about.”

Some at the table chuckled, but most stayed silent in their anger.

“Rick? Walk with me,” Alexis said as he left the table. “My lords, I thank you all.”

Alexis strode from the great hall, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

Once out in the passageway, and safely out of sight and earshot, Alexis reached out for his brother. Derrick was at his side instantly as the master stumbled and winced.

“You will push yourself to an early grave,” Derrick said. “How bad is it?”

Alexis looked down at his tunic and was glad he chose dark blue since it hid the spreading stain across his midsection.

“You need a physician,” Derrick scolded. “You’re oozing life everywhere.”

“Your highness!” a porter shouted from the far end of the passageway. “Your highness! The physicians need you at once!”

“Ask and you shall receive,” Alexis chuckled.

“The master was on his way there now,” Derrick said. “Please hurry back and inform them the master will need his wound attended to.”

“His wound? No, my lord, it is the mistress!” the porter nearly shouted. “That is why the physicians need you! They say there are complications with the birth and the midwife will not let them take control!”

“Oh, dear Helios!” Alexis exclaimed. “Rick! Help me there now!”

* * *

“Master Alexis?”

Silence.

“Master Alexis? We must take him now.”

The nurse stood to the side of the monarch, her eyes watching carefully as the man held the body of his stillborn infant boy.

“Did he suffer, do you think?” Alexis asked as he slowly took a deep breath and handed the body to the nurse. “Did he feel it when he died?”

“I...I don’t know, your highness,” the nurse replied as she took the swaddled corpse from his hands.

“He did not suffer,” the midwife said as she came from the bedchamber and into the main area of the royal quarters. She quickly walked to a sink and began to scrub her hands of the blood and afterbirth that coated her skin. “The umbilical cord became wrapped about his throat. He died peacefully from a lack of oxygen to the brain. It was as if he went to sleep.”

“But he never had a chance to be born and awake!” Alexis roared. He stood and stormed over to the woman, his frame towering over her. “How can he have gone to sleep if he never woke up to begin with?”

“It was like sleep, but not sleep itself,” the midwife replied, not intimidated by the brutally tall monarch who quaked before her with grief driven rage. “But your question was whether he suffered, and I can swear on Helios that he did not.”

“To shit with Helios!” Alexis shouted. “The Planet, the Star, the System and the God himself! The Dear Parent abandoned me this day so I will abandon him!”

The nurse gasped and the midwife turned a cold gaze to her. The woman quickly left the quarters, ready to deliver the small body to the station’s gatekeepers for ointment before burial. Once the nurse was gone, the midwife looked up into the mad eyes of her master.

“Would you like to see your wife?” she asked, a hand going to the master’s arm.

Two royal guards moved from the wall and stepped towards her, but hesitated the second she looked at them.

“I have stopped the bleeding and she is resting, but I believe the comfort of her husband will be the best medicine right now,” the midwife said. “For her body as well as her soul.”

“Yes...yes, of course,” Alexis said, the anger leaving him as quickly as it came. He looked towards the bedchamber, feeling lost and adrift.

“Here, let me help you,” the woman said as she gripped his arm and led the man towards the door. “Comfort her, share her grief, be with her now. Be for her now. She has lost a part of herself and will need your love to replace that.”

“Right…” Alexis said as he opened the door. He stopped before entering and looked down at the midwife. “None of this will be easy for you. The physicians will try to convince me this is your fault.”

The midwife studied the master’s face and nodded.

“And do you believe it is?” she asked.

“No, I do not,” Alexis said. “Children die all the time in this station with physicians present. Yet their abilities are never questioned. I will not question yours if you can assure me you did everything within your power.”

“I assure you I did,” the midwife said, pushing him forward into the room. “The health of the child always comes first, then the mother’s.” She nodded towards the woman covered in blankets and comforters in the bed before her and the master. “I will remain outside for the rest of the night in case she starts bleeding again. Call me for any reason. I am here for you as well.”

Alexis nodded and stumbled forward as the midwife quietly closed the door behind him.

“Al?” Eliza’s weak voice called from the bed. “My love?”

“It’s me,” Alexis said as he made his way to the bed and climbed in next to her.

His hands hovered above her form, afraid to touch her and cause her any distress. Eliza reached back and wrapped him around her, moaning in pain as his forearm brushed her abdomen.

“I’m hurting you,” Alexis said.

“No, you could never hurt me,” Eliza whispered. “Never.”

Alexis buried his face in her hair and held back his tears.

“Was he beautiful?” Eliza asked. “Like you?”

“No,” Alexis replied, the tears refusing to obey as they slide down his cheeks. “He was beautiful like you. Even the Dear Parent pales in his beauty.”

“Hush,” Eliza said. “Don’t blaspheme.”

“It is a day of blasphemy when our son does not get to live,” Alexis said, his chest hitching with sobs. “I cannot say or do anything worse than what has already been done.”

“Then say or do nothing at all,” Eliza said. “Just hold me and warm me.”

The two parents lay there, souls battered by grief, bodies entwined in order to cling to some small comfort of life.

* * *

“This is not a good idea,” Derrick said, standing at his brother’s side as the lift slowly took them down through Sector Kirke’s main levels to the first of the subterranean decks. “You’re still grieving, still healing, and should be home with your family, not on a tour to drum up support for something you’ve already decreed is happening. What do you hope to accomplish?”

“The passengers need to know I’m not just the monarch of the stewards,” Alexis said. “They have to know I’m for the people as well. No one will trust or believe in the meeting of passengers if I don’t do this. When was the last time Father toured the decks other than to figure out how to tear them apart and rebuild them?”

“He could have cared less about the passengers,” Derrick replied. “I see your point.”

“But will the passengers see your point?” Stolt asked, standing behind the two royals. “They are used to hearing opinions, not being asked for theirs.”

“Then I’ll be the first,” Alexis said. “As my great grandfather did when he signed the Bill of Meeting, giving the stewards a say in the overall governance of Station Aelon, so I will give the passengers a say by including them in that Bill.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, your highness,” Stolt said. “I know why you are doing it, and you are about to explain that why to the people themselves, but my question is will they see the point of it? Will they care, is what I am getting at.”

“I’d be surprised if they don’t,” Alexis responded. “What man or woman doesn’t care about their voice being heard?”

“Men and women that have never been asked before,” Stolt replied. “Ask a man who has never experienced planetary gravity which he prefers and he will always say station gravity. But we all know that no matter how well the rotational drive does in creating artificial gravity for each station, there is nothing like the feel of gravity on Helios. It is solid and better for our bodies. But the station bound passenger does not know that.”

“That’s your metaphor?” Derrick laughed. “Gravity?”

“I thought it fitting,” Stolt smiled. “Considering the gravity of this endeavor.”

Alexis grinned at the pun, but shook his head.

“This tour may be so the stewards see the point as much as the passengers,” Alexis said. “We all have a lot to learn from each other.”

“Then why do you wear your blades?” Stolt asked. “Long and short. What exactly do you expect to learn if you need those?”

“I insisted, my lord,” Corbin said from the front of the lift, his body blocking the doors, ready to take point with the security detail when they reached the deck. “There has been some unrest on the decks due to the high casualties passengers suffered during the planetary conflict.”

“The people don’t want to die for us,” Stolt said. “So why would they want to lead with us?”

“Because they will have the choice to for once,” Alexis said. “And because I plan on apologizing to them for the unnecessary loss of the lives of their loved ones. In the end, it was discussion and compromise that won out. So it will with the meetings.”

“Apologize?” Derrick said. “Has a master ever apologized to his people before? The master of station’s word is supreme, second only to Helios. He never has to apologize.”

“I’m a monarch of many firsts then,” Alexis said.

He looked about the lift and frowned. It was nothing but a metal cage with thin sheet metal sides over the heavy duty safety mesh. The lighting was dim and made his head hurt while the ride itself could be considered nothing but jarring.

“One of my other firsts will be to upgrade the lift systems in the station,” Alexis said. “There are how many lifts and sub-lifts?”

“Not counting the ones within the stewards’ estates? Close to a hundred,” Derrick said. “Father had looked at redesigning them but decided he’d start with the decks themselves.”

“Sound thinking,” Alexis said. “No point in upgrading something that’s going to get beat to all Helios transporting supplies and construction crews.”

“Or only serves to move passengers from one deck to the next,” Stolt said. “I rarely use a deck lift at all. I make sure my subjects come to me above. As it should be.”

Alexis looked about and found the lift operator sitting silently in the corner, his hand poised near the brake and throttle controls.

“Excuse me, what is your name?” Alexis asked, pushing past Derrick and the royal guards to stand next to the operator.

The man looked as if he would faint and die right then. His eyes grew wide and he instantly got off the stool to kneel before the master. Alexis shook his head and grabbed the operator by the shoulders which elicited a small squeak from the man.

“Relax,” Alexis laughed. “I just want your opinion and expertise regarding the lift.”

“Yes, your highness,” the man stammered. “Anything you need, your highness.”

“The lift is powered by the main Vape generators like the rest of the station, correct?” Alexis asked.

“He’s an operator, your highness,” Stolt smirked. “Not an engineer. He makes it go up and down. He doesn’t know why or how it does it.”

The operator’s eyes moved to Steward Stolt and he nodded, but Alexis could see the hint of disagreement in the man’s face.

“You do know how the lifts work, don’t you?” Alexis asked. “It’s alright to disagree with a steward when the master is present. In fact, I’d prefer that you did.”

The man turned his full attention on Alexis and smiled. “Yes, your highness, I know how the lifts work. There’s been a lift operator in my family going back twenty generations now,” the man said. “I’m very familiar with their engineering as well as operation.”

“So they are powered by the Vape generators then?” Alexis asked.

“Yes and no, your majesty,” the operator said. “While their main power source is the electricity generated by the combustion of Vape gas within the station’s power plant, there are also auxiliary canisters embedded within the floor that connect to backup generators should the main power fail and anyone finds themselves trapped in a lift.”

“I didn’t know that,” Derrick said. “But I’ve never been trapped in a lift.”

“That’s interesting,” Alexis said, glancing sideways at Steward Stolt. “Backup generators in the lifts. They must have to be inspected because of disuse. I can’t remember the last time there was a station wide power outage.”

The man smiled, but Alexis could see the insincerity.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, your highness, never,” the operator said looking like he wished for nothing more than to sit on his stool and become invisible once again.

“I am, I can see it in your eyes,” Alexis said. “When was the last power outage?”

“Just a couple of days ago, your highness,” the man nearly whispered.

“There was?” Alexis asked, puzzled. He looked to his brother. “Did you know about it?”

“Power never wavered in Quent,” Derrick said. He turned to Stolt. “Any issues here in Sector Kirke?”

The steward glared hard at the lift operator then looked at Alexis. “There has had to be rationing of power throughout the sectors. Until we know for sure that The Way will honor the Prime Treaty, the stewards decided that rolling blackouts from the lower decks up was wise. Of course, now that our master is safely back in the station, and has assured us of the strength of the Prime Treaty, there won’t be any need of the rationing.”

“When in Helios did the stewards decide that?” Derrick snapped. “I was acting regent and not one word of this reached my ears.”

“It was a sector by sector decision,” Stolt replied. “It did not need regency approval. It just happened that all stewards decided the same course.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” Alexis barked. “I’m going on a tour of the sectors to garner the support and goodwill of the passengers and you didn’t think I should know that there have been periodic blackouts for the decks? It’ll be a wonder they don’t string us up the second we step off this lift!”

“I will make sure they don’t get within an inch of you, your highness,” Corbin said. “I’ll die before I let them string you up.”

“You may well die if they string you up first, Corbin,” Alexis growled. “Cousin Stolt, this will not stand. Any other decisions the stewards have made that I should know about?”

“Not that I can think of,” Stolt replied.

“Well, perhaps you should think harder, steward,” Alexis responded, his voice cold and deadly.

“I’ll do my best, your highness,” Stolt nodded, bowing slightly. “And you have my humble apologies. I will make sure the word is spread to the other stewards that rationing power is no longer the will of nobility.”

Alexis struggled to regain his composure and it took all of his strength not to lash out at the smug steward. By the time the lift slowed and then stopped, Alexis had gotten the rage under control and took a deep breath as the doors slid to the side and Corbin and his men stepped out to secure the immediate area.

“Clear, your highness,” Corbin said. “If you will follow me.”

“Thank you, Corbin,” Alexis said. “But I will be fine. Which deck are we on?”

“Middle Deck Twenty, sire,” Corbin replied. “I believe the deck boss’s name is Gornish Wyaerrn.”

Stolt snorted from behind the master.

“Something you’d like to share?” Alexis asked.

“You’ll see, your highness,” Stolt smiled. “Mr. Wyaerrn is quite the individual, as you will find out soon enough.”

“Intriguing,” Alexis said. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“This way, sire,” Corbin said as he led the master and his entourage from the lift corridor and out into the main atrium of Middle Deck Twenty.

The space was enormous. A massive cavern of metal and polybreen plastics, the atrium had three levels to it, each level jammed with people, all bargaining and haggling in front of merchant carts over food and other wares. Most of the surfaces of the atrium were coated with the same drab grey paint as the rest of Station Aelon, but the banisters at the edges of the levels and stairways were painted in the deep blue and dark red of the Teirmont crest.

Slowly, on a wave of gossip, word spread that the master was on deck and the atrium began to quiet down. Faces turned away from the haggling and looked down at the master, showing a mixture of fear and awe, support and contempt.

“All kneel for Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First!” Corbin announced.

As one the people took a knee, but their eyes never left the master’s.

“Please rise,” Alexis called out. “While I thank you for your courtesy, I am not here to interrupt your lives, but only to observe them and speak with your deck boss. Please carry on with your day.”

No one moved.

“The master said to carry on!” Corbin shouted.

“Corbin, be nice,” Alexis said. “I doubt many of these folks have seen their own steward, let alone master of station.”

Stolt caught the barb, but did not react to it.

A portly man hurried towards the group, a long box in his hands, trailed by six women that seemed to be talking to the man all at once.

“Yes, I know, I know!” the man snapped. “Let it be!”

The man skidded to a stop, almost toppling against the barrier of Corbin and his guards. He looked past the armed men and smiled at the master.

“It is an honor, your highness,” the man said. “To have a master visit our humble deck is nothing short of a miracle.” The women behind him hissed. “I mean, not that it takes a miracle for the master of station to visit amongst his people. I was never implying that—”

“The honor is mine, sir,” Alexis interrupted. “And you are…?”

“Gornish Wyerrn, your highness,” Gornish said as he bowed so low that he had to be helped back upright by two of the women. “Deck boss of Middle Deck Twenty, at your service.”

“I see you have something there, Gornish. Is it a gift?” Alexis asked.

“Yes, it is, sire!” Gornish exclaimed and tried to move forward, but was stopped by Corbin.

“Let him through,” Alexis ordered. “I’d like the deck boss to present the, well, present to me himself.”

“Thank you, sire!” Gornish said as he squeezed through the ranks of the reluctant guards. “This is something I know you will find marvelous! I have been trying to get it before Steward Stolt, but he—”

“Just open the box, man,” Stolt snapped. “The master doesn’t have all day.”

Alexis frowned at the steward, but let it go and nodded to the deck boss.

“Please. I’m dying to see what it is,” Alexis said.

Gornish knelt and set the long box on the ground. He opened it quickly and pulled out what was inside, holding it out to the master with both hands.

“What is this?” Alexis asked as he took the gift. “Is this a sling of some sort?”

“Yes!” Gornish cried out. “It is called a longsling and can hit a man from a thousand feet away!”

“Preposterous,” Stolt grumbled.

“A thousand feet?” Derrick asked. “You must be joking. No sling has ever had that kind of range.”

“This does,” Gornish said, grunting loudly as he stood back up. “The longer barrel of the sling means the flechette will achieve better distance and accuracy. But it’s not just the barrel that allows the flechettes to fly so far.” He held out his hands. “If I may, sire?”

“Of course,” Alexis said and handed the longsling back.

“The key is combustion of the Vape within the firing chamber,” Gornish explained. “Instead of shooting a projectile using compressed Vape only, this design actually sparks the Vape, creating a small explosion which propels the flechette at a speed and distance that couldn’t have been achieved before.”

“Seriously?” Alexis asked, his eyes wide and skeptical. “You combust Vape in this small chamber? How do you not blow your hands off?”

“The metal is tempered over one hundred times, your highness,” Gornish replied, looking very satisfied with himself. “It is a technique used for many other applications, but I was the first to think of how it would work with a longsling.”

“Quite brilliant,” Alexis said. “I’ll have to have you give a demonstration one—”

“Death to the hierarchy!” a voice bellowed from the top level of the atrium. “Equality for the people of the lower decks!”

The royal party looked up to see a man dressed all in black pull his arm back and throw something down towards them.

“Grenade!” Corbin yelled as he tried to get back to the master.

But before he could, Gornish pulled a metal box from his pocket, slapped it into the bottom of the longsling, put the weapon to his shoulder, turned up and fired. The grenade exploded above them as Gornish drew back a bolt on the longsling and then fired again.

The man above screamed in a spray of blood then fell back away from the railing.

The entire atrium began to scream and panic as they fled the huge space, all looking for safety elsewhere. There was shouting and yelling around Alexis and several hands began to pull at him, but his feet were rooted in place as he looked from Gornish to the longsling and back.

“Spectacular,” he grinned, clapping the deck boss on the shoulder. “Simply spectacular.”

Chapter Three

The council sat at the table, all eyes on Alexis as he read the report in front of him.

“This makes the tenth attack this month,” Alexis said. “Do we know anymore about this group? Or are they allowed to just run free terrorizing innocent people.”

“We have yet to capture any of the attackers alive, your highness,” de Morlan replied. He looked over at Derrick. “But there is a name that has started to circulate amongst the passengers.”

Alexis looked from de Morlan to Derrick. “Is the name a secret or are you going to tell me?”

“Lucas Langley,” Derrick answered. “After each attack someone paints the name on a wall of the affected deck.”

“That’s just insurgent propaganda!” Stolt cried from his seat next to Derrick. Other than de Morlan, he was the highest ranking steward on the council, because of his sector holdings. “We need to send a regiment down to the lower decks and stop this at the source!”

“Insurgents?” Alexis mused. “How can there be insurgents on Aelon when everyone here is born and raised? An insurgency implies an outside force. Do you believe an outside force is pushing these attacks?”

“No, sire, I do not,” de Morlan said quickly. He glared at Stolt and shook his head. “This is completely homegrown, your highness. Langley is part of a long line of engineers from the lower decks. As you know, under your father’s rule, the lower decks were constantly mined for cheap labor to help with the rebuilds. Unfortunately, if anyone objected to their new position they were tossed into the Vape chamber in the rotational drive.” The steward cleared his throat. “Your father called it, uh…”

“Gravitational justice,” Alexis nodded. “Yes, I’m aware of my father’s proclivities towards creative forms of punishment.”

“Execution, not punishment,” Steward Joff Klemshir said from a seat towards the end of the table. “The lower decks see every one of those deaths as an unjustified execution and have called for an eye for an eye. Can’t blame them.”

“Steward Klemshir!” de Morlan exclaimed. “That is dangerously close to treason!”

“No, it’s close to honesty,” Klemshir replied. “I didn’t say I agreed with them, I said I didn’t blame them. Can you? If one of us was yanked from this room and thrown out of an airlock for no reason other than we refused to vote on a measure, how would the remainder of us feel? Pretty damn pissed off, is how.”

“Point taken, Steward Klemshir,” Alexis said. “And yet another reason I insist we go forward with the meeting of passengers.”

“That cannot be allowed, your highness,” de Morlan said. “The main reason being that security has blocked all access to the surface of the station until the unrest can be put down. Even if we had the full support of the stewards, which we do not, we cannot risk allowing an extremist onto the surface, let alone into Castle Quent!”

“Then we meet below,” Alexis said. “We don’t have the meeting of passengers on the surface in Quent or in any of the stewards’ manor houses. We take the meeting to the very people it is meant to represent.”

“People that already have representation by their stewards,” Stolt said. “Which has been enough for millennia. You are upsetting a boat that does not need to be upset.”

“Your protestations have been heard and noted,” Alexis sighed. “Countless times. How about you skip your next protest and help decide where we should hold the meeting of passengers.”

The council looked about at each other, none wanting to offer up space within their sectors. Alexis waited patiently, making sure to meet the eye of each person seated at the table. When no suggestions came forth, he stood up and brought himself to his full, impressive height. The Teirmont fire burned in his eyes.

“I know my succession was sudden and happened during a huge amount of conflict and turmoil with Station Aelon and Aelon Prime,” Alexis began. “But it still does not change the fact that I am master. I have been master for several months now, yet all I see are condescending faces and conniving smirks.” Derrick started to argue, but Alexis held up his hand. “With various exceptions, of course.”

“Of course,” Stolt said.

“Do not count yourself amongst those exceptions, cousin,” Alexis growled. “In fact, I would put you at the top of the agitator list.”

“Your highness!” Stolt exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You must be kidding? I have been nothing but loyal to the crown!”

“You were loyal to my father because he was easily manipulated with flattery and gifts,” Alexis said. “Which explains why your sectors have the most improvements done to them.” Alexis smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Come to think of it, wasn’t the Middle Deck Twenty-Six atrium in Sector Bueke widened and restructured to allow more people to gather there during the Last Meal festival?”

“Your highness, Last Meal is a high holy day,” Stolt replied. “You cannot compare this farce of a meeting to the celebration of Helios devouring the false gods. That borders on blasphemy.”

“And your argument borders on sedition!” Alexis roared. “We will hold the meeting of passengers in your Sector Bueke in the Middle Deck Twenty-Six atrium! I do not want to hear any other response out of your mouth other than ‘Yes, sire!’”

The room was silent and still as all eyes turned to Steward Stolt. The man’s struggle with his emotions was plainly visible on his face. But after a few seconds he regained himself and took his seat.

“Yes, sire,” he said quietly. “My apologies.”

“I’ll forgive you for the extra two words, Cousin,” Alexis grinned. The fire still remained in his eyes, but it was tempered by satisfaction. “Let’s adjourn the council for today. You all have much to prepare for. I expect you to pick, notify, and assist those from your sectors that you deem fit for the meeting without further delay. Have your choices to me by the end of the week. We will call the meeting to order in one month’s time.”

Alexis looked to Corbin as the man stood at attention off to the side.

“I expect you to coordinate the security needed with Steward Stolt’s men,” Alexis said, his eyes flitting to Stolt and back. “Tell them they are to do as you order as if it was my words they are hearing directly from my lips. You will report to my brother on all matters and he will report to me if there is a problem. Understood?”

“Yes, your highness,” Corbin nodded. “I will not fail you.”

“I expect not,” Alexis grinned. “Gentlemen? Good day.”

* * *

“No!” Alexis shouted. “Preposterous!”

“Preposterous?” Eliza frowned, her arms folded across her chest. “Please tell me you did not just use that word with me.”

“I will not, cannot, allow you to accompany me below the Surface!” Alexis yelled. “You are with child again!”

“I am,” Eliza said, keeping her voice even and cool, the direct opposite of her husband’s booming tone. “But only a month and a half along. The midwife suggests I get out and stop hiding within Castle Quent.” She looked about the sparse royal quarters. “Which I think is a fine idea. If I stare at these stupid tapestries for another day I will go mad. Is that what you want, husband? For your mistress to go mad while carrying your child?”

“But what about the other children? The ones that have already been born? Will you abandon them?” Alexis grumbled as he slumped into a less than plush chair. His fingers picked at the breen upholstery as he looked at his wife. “They need their mother.”

“They need their father also,” Eliza replied. “But you are continually leaving the castle while I remain behind. The children have nurses and they have an adoring aunt. They will be staying with Melinda at Castle Helble. Her late husband may have been an awful boor, but he did leave her with an amazing home.”

“One she never uses because she is always in her quarters here at court,” Alexis responded. He thought for a second then sighed. “I guess it will get her out of here as well. She should tend to her estate now and again.”

“There will be other children there ours can play with,” Eliza said. “Melinda has an open invitation for the sector wardens’, and even deck bosses’, children to come to the Surface and play on the estate when they want. The place is more of a park than a working farm.”

“Yes, the stewards keep reminding me that Sector Helble does not make its quota of resources ever,” Alexis said. “Maybe we should set up the area as a children’s refuge and have that be her contribution?”

“I doubt she’d object,” Eliza smiled. “And if the royal children endorse it then you know the stewards, and their wives, will jump on immediately. If for nothing else than pure sycophancy.”

Alexis rolled his head on his neck and then nodded. “Fine. You can come with me.”

“Oh, thank you, my lord,” Eliza replied with an exaggerated curtsey. “You honor me with your permission.”

“Come here,” he smiled in spite of himself.

“Who? Me?” Eliza said, walking slowly towards him, her hands on her ocean green tunic. “Why, your highness? Do you need something?”

“Yes,” Alexis said as he reached for her. “I need you.”

His arms took her in and she fell onto his lap. Hands moved quickly and the ocean green tunic, as well as Alexis’s bright blue one, fell to the foot of the chair. Trousers followed and soon the chair was forgotten as the royal couple moved to the floor.

* * *

The massive atrium was filled to bursting with long tables, banquets to the side, men, women, and even some children, as the meeting of passengers was about to start. Alexis, seated at the head of the longest table that split the atrium down the middle, looked up at the five levels of balconies above him. All he could see were people jammed together shoulder to shoulder, their expectant faces watching the last minute preparations for a historical event the likes their generation had never witnessed before.

“They seem scared,” Eliza said, leaning close to her husband’s ear so she could be heard. Despite more than a few grumblings from some of the stewards in attendance, Eliza’s seat had been placed to Alexis’s right. De Morlan had happily given up the spot to please the mistress. “Why do they seem so scared? I would think they’d be elated considering their voices will truly be heard for the first time.”

“I think they are afraid for many reasons,” Alexis replied, taking his wife’s hand and kissing the soft skin. “Mostly they are afraid their representatives will not be up to the task and the meeting will fail. Many of these men taking their seats have been nothing but subservient to stewards their entire lives. Sure, they lead as sector wardens and deck bosses, but that’s not the same as actually making decisions that not only affect their people, but all passengers on Station Aelon.”

“Yes, it must be very hard for all these men,” Eliza said, her sarcasm not concealed in the least.

“Patience, my dear love,” Alexis said. “One day women will join these tables. But it must be one step at a time. Making sure the meeting of passengers is a success will be key to ushering changes for the fairer sex.”

A hand gripped him under the table. Hard.

“Fairer?” Eliza mocked, squeezing even harder. Alexis grunted, but tried to keep his face passive so as not to alarm anyone. “What’s that about fairer?”

He gently removed her hand and placed it on her belly.

“You know what I mean,” he said, his own hand rubbing at her midsection that was just starting to protrude. “And you know how I feel.”

“And you know how I feel,” Eliza said. “Thomas may be your male heir, but Esther is who should truly take the crown when, Helios forbid, you pass. I love my boy dearly, but he does not have the temperament for ruling like you do. Esther was born to be a mistress, and not because she marries into the position.”

“I know,” Alexis said as he watched a portly man make his way through the crowd and to Corbin who stood a few paces away. “I know that man. Where have I met him?”

Eliza looked over and shook her head. “Not a clue.”

“Ah! I know,” Alexis exclaimed and stood up quickly. “Deck Boss Wyerrn! Come, meet my wife!”

Corbin looked over his shoulder at the royal couple then turned back to Gornish and gestured for him to proceed.

“Your highness, thank you so much for granting me an audience,” Gornish said, bowing low. “I know you have many more important people to attend to than a lowly deck boss such as myself.”

“Not true, not true,” Alexis said. “A man of your ingenuity should always be in favor of a master’s attention.”

Gornish let out a little squeak at the compliment and his face turned bright red. Eliza chuckled at the sight and stood up to offer her hand.

“So you are the man that created the longsling and the, uh, what do you call them?” Eliza grinned as Gornish clumsily took her hand and nearly fell over as he tried to bow and kiss the hand at the same time. “The new flechettes?”

“Particle barb flechettes, your highness,” Gornish replied. “Thicker and heavier than normal flechettes because they are designed to splinter and shred upon contact. I have been testing a new version and finally perfected one that can cut through even the toughest of polybreen armor.”

“Cut through polybreen armor?” Eliza replied. “I didn’t know that was possible except for the sharpest long blade.”

“It is now, my mistress,” Gornish responded. “I was hoping to gain an audience with the royal armorer, but he will not see me.”

Alexis furrowed his brow. “He won’t? I gave strict orders to accommodate your needs in bringing the longslings, and ammunition, into full production.”

“I appreciate that, your highness,” Gornish nodded. “I wouldn’t trouble you with it, but…”

“Out with it,” Alexis said. “You are speaking to someone that was raised to appreciate innovations of engineering and construction. Don’t hesitate in being honest.”

“It’s that I have sunk my entire life’s fortune, as well as my wife’s, into the design of the longsling and particle barbs. If I can’t get them into production soon then I will lose everything,” Gornish said shyly. “And now my appointment to the meeting of passengers, which is a true honor, will take up more of my time. Time I should be using to shore up my holdings. I am not a young man such as yourself, your highness. I have limited days to provide a legacy for my daughters.”

“Then I’ll do what I can to help with that legacy, Gornish, my man,” Alexis grinned, clapping the man on the shoulder. “Corbin!”

“Yes, sire?” Corbin asked, his eyes turning reluctantly from the task of scanning the crowds.

“Will you take Deck Boss Wyerrn to find my brother? If you accompany him he’ll be seen right away,” Alexis said. “I know Derrick is about here somewhere.” The master turned to Gornish. “Tell my brother that he is, by royal decree, to expedite the production of longslings and the flechettes. He’s a long time drinking buddy of the royal armorer. Derrick will know how to get things moving.”

“Thank you, your grace!” Gornish exclaimed. “I mean, your highness! Your aren’t High Guardian, I don’t know why I called you your grace. My apologies—”

“It’s fine,” Eliza interrupted. “He can be very graceful.”

“Corbin? Please,” Alexis said as the deck boss started to stammer more gratitudes. “Hurry before the proceedings begin.”

Corbin tugged at Gornish’s elbow and led the thankful man away through the milling groups of passengers and stewards. Alexis watched them go with a bemused smile.

“I like that man,” Alexis said.

“I like it when you say ‘royal decree,’” Eliza grinned. “Maybe you can say it to me over and over later this evening?”

“If the day doesn’t tire us both out,” Alexis said.

There is a commotion towards one of the side tables and soon shouting could be heard. Then there was the crash of glassware and the shouts rose in volume until the atrium was filled with a roar of angry voices.

“Steward Thierri’s party,” de Morlan said as he hurried over to Alexis’s side. “His choice of passenger representative was seated two chairs down from the one that represents Sector Glebe.”

“Steward Alote’s sector,” Alexis said.

“Precisely,” de Morlan nodded.

“Helios,” Alexis sighed as he rubbed his face. “This meeting is about the passengers and not about petty feuds between stewards.”

“The passenger delegates represent their sectors,” de Morlan shrugged. “Which means they bring their stewards’ grudges with them to the tables.”

“Shaowshit,” Alexis said and pushed past the steward. “I’ll teach them what this day is supposed to be about.”

“Your highness!” de Morlan called out. “Sire, no!”

He tried to follow the angry master, but the taller man’s stride was too much and he soon lost him in the crowd. As soon as people saw who was walking amongst them they parted and the master could move even faster. De Morlan was held back even further as the crowd closed in behind the striding Alexis.

“Don’t try to catch him,” Eliza said from de Morlan’s side. “Just get there in time to minimize the damage.”

“My mistress,” de Morlan said with surprise. “You should not be here! Please, your highness, return to your table!” He looked about for Corbin, but couldn’t find the head guard. “Here, I will escort you.”

“Like Helios you will,” Eliza snapped, yanking her arm away from the steward as he took it to steer her back. “I saw the look in Alexis’s eyes. His patience is thin and he’s ready to make an example. He has too much of his grandfather in him.”

De Morlan looked from the mistress to the crowd that was gathering and following the master to the side of the atrium.

“You need to go control this situation,” Eliza insisted. “Now.”

“Fine, your highness,” de Morlan said. “But you do not leave my side, understood?”

“Did you just talk to me as if I was a child, Steward de Morlan?” Eliza grinned. “Can I have candy if I’m a good girl?”

De Morlan’s jaw dropped in confusion and embarrassment.

“Close that trap, Alasdair,” Eliza said as she took the lead. “You’ll attract honey wasps.”

Eliza pushed through the crowd to reach her husband just as he was pulling two men off of each other. She shook her head and stopped at the edge of the fight, watching her husband tower over the much older and much shorter passengers.

“Is this how you want to legislate?” Alexis shouted. “With grudges and fists? How is this behavior any better than just letting the stewards decide your fate? You two should be ashamed of yourselves and think long and hard on whether you are the right men to represent your sectors!”

He gripped a skinny, freckled man by the back of the neck and shook him.

“What is your name, sir?” Alexis barked.

“Deck Boss Bothe Teg, your highness,” the man winced.

“And you?” Alexis asked the other, equally pained man.

“Sector Warden Montieth Wyatt,” the other man replied, his mouth a rictus of pain as the master’s grip increased.

“Well, Sector Warden Montieth Wyatt and Deck Boss Bothe Teg,” Alexis smiled, violence shining from his white teeth. “Shake hands now and call your stupid bickering over and done with. Extend those hands or I will cut them off, do you hear me?”

The two men stared up at the master, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. Then slowly they extended their hands and shook.

“Good,” Alexis said, letting them go and shoving them away. “Now if you don’t mind, I would like to start this meeting so we can make history.”

Deck Boss Teg stumbled as he stepped away from the master and his feet went out from under him. He tried to break his fall by grabbing one of the tables, but his hand slipped and instead his head smacked a corner. The man crumpled to the ground and there was an audible gasp.

“Father? Father!” a younger man shouted as he shoved people out of the way to get to the fallen deck boss. “Oh, Helios! Father!”

Blood pooled around Teg’s head and the younger man fell to his knees and lifted him into his lap. The older man’s eyes were blank and glazed, showing his soul had already fled the flesh.

“No! No!” the younger man screamed. Then he looked up at a stunned Alexis. “You killed him! You killed my father! He was a good man! He was good!”

“Oh, Helios…” Alexis whispered.

“Alexis? Come along,” Eliza said as she moved forward and took his hand. “We need to leave.”

There were harsh whispers and grumbles started to move through the crowd as Eliza looked about, suddenly fearful for her and her husband’s safety for the first time that day.

“Alexis,” she hissed.

“I’m sorry,” Alexis said, gently moving away from his wife and crouching before the grief stricken man and his dead father. “It was an accident, I assure you. I’ll compensate—”

“Compensate?” the man yelled. “Compensate me how? With a new father? You can’t get a new father when one dies! It’s not like you and your stillborn brood! One dies and you can fuck the Ploervian whore you married and make another one! I’d fuck that slut too if it would bring my father back! But it won’t, so take the whore cunt away from here!”

The whispering crowd went silent at the man’s words. Alexis didn’t move or say anything for a long while. Then he abruptly stood up, walked over to de Morlan, removed the man’s long blade, spun about and jammed it through the eye socket of the grieving son.

Blood spurted out around the blade as Alexis leaned into it, kneeling as he pushed it through the man’s skull up to the hilt. The master’s face was one of shaking fury and he moved in close to the second dead man.

“See who you can fuck in Helios, asshole,” Alexis snarled.

Then he stood up and yanked the blade free, whipping the blood from the metal in one shake of his hand. He turned to look at the crowd and was about to speak when several roars were heard and six men shoved through, all running at the master with blades drawn.

“Alexis!” Eliza screamed.

The master spun about and ducked low just as the first blade swiped empty air where his head had been. Alexis slid his long blade easily into the attacker’s soft guts and pulled to the side, sending intestines spilling out onto the floor.

“Corbin!” Eliza screamed, the only voice in a stunned crowd. “Corbin!”

Even the other royal guards stood silent and still, their minds confused by what they were seeing.

A second attacker brought his blade down with both hands, but Alexis raised his blade in time to block the blow. He stood up, his long legs like unstoppable pistons, and shoved the man back with one hand while he reached out and snagged the man’s short blade from his belt. Before the attacker could regain his balance he found his own short blade sticking out of his chest.

Alexis strode forward and pulled out the short blade, then spun and threw it at a third man that came at him. He smiled as the blade slid into the man’s forehead like a knife through butter. On some level he wondered what the man had used to sharpen the blade.

“Sire!” Corbin yelled as he finally reached the fight. “What are you men doing? Stop this!”

The head of the royal guard hurried at the master and grabbed him by both arms just as another attacker was about to meet Helios in person.

“Sire! Stop!” Corbin shouted up at Alexis’s ear. “Stop now!”

Alexis threw off his protector and whirled on him, long blade ready for battle. Corbin parried and knocked the master’s blade to the side, but didn’t unhand it.

“Corbin,” Alexis said, his voice calm and even, not matching the wild look in his eyes or the way his chest hitched up and down with the exertion and adrenaline. “About time you showed your face.”

Corbin shook his head and frowned as he stood back from the master. “Sire, I was—”

“No matter,” Alexis said, waving his hand as he tossed the long blade to the ground. “All of these men? Have them brought to their knees and lined up.”

“All men of Sector Glebe and Sector Gwalter will step forward!” Corbin shouted. “Do so now!”

Almost two dozen men reluctantly separated from the crowd as guards hurried forward and shoved them to their knees. They looked up at the master, many with nothing but rage in their eyes, but most with terror and sadness.

“You hold a grudge against each others’ sectors for what reason?” Alexis snarled. “Because your stewards say so? Cowards. All of you. I bring you here to be able to speak and think for yourselves and all you do is pick other men’s fights. You don’t deserve a voice. None of you do.”

He stood up and walked slowly away from the line of men, his eyes focused on Corbin’s.

“Cut out their tongues,” Alexis said. “And if a single one makes a sound while you do it then execute them all.”

Corbin watched his master for a second then moved in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, sire, do not ask me to do this,” Corbin pleaded. “This was all a mistake.”

“Are you saying the Master of Station Aelon made a mistake?” Alexis grinned. “Please, guard, say what you just said again.”

Corbin closed his mouth and swallowed hard then shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” Alexis said. “Now. Cut. Out. Their. Tongues.”

“No, Corbin, do not,” Eliza said as she moved forward and pushed the miserable head guard out of the way. “Because my husband is about to rescind that order and turn and apologize to these people. Do you hear me, Alexis Teirmont? There will be no tongue cutting, no executions, and no more violence today. Turn and show these men mercy and show your people the humility I know you possess.”

“You are shaming me in front of passengers,” Alexis said. “De Morlan? Take my wife away from here. This is no place for a—”

The slap came so fast and hard that Alexis didn’t have a chance to brace for it. Even at the awkward angle of the blow, his head still nearly whipped all the way about. He raised his own hand in retaliation, but then his whole body went cold and numb with the awareness of what he was about to do.

“Show them,” Eliza said, not flinching an inch from the raised hand above her. “Show them now.”

“My love,” Alexis whispered, his hand falling slowly to his side. “Forgive me.”

“I already have,” Eliza replied. “It is their forgiveness you need.”

Eliza reached up and stroked her husband’s cheeks, wiping the single tear away that escaped the corner of one eye. She gently pulled his face towards her and then kissed the quivering lips once they were close enough.

“You are not a monster like your grandfather,” Eliza said. “Nor a fool, like your father. You are Alexis the First and a man unto yourself. You wanted to make history today. Now is your chance.”

She kissed him again then placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away from her. Alexis looked at her for a long minute, his eyes going over every detail of her beautiful face. He saw everything he loved about her in that moment and knew this day would be lodged in his heart for the rest of his life.

“People of Station Aelon,” Alexis said strongly as he turned and addressed the crowds, both on the ground and up on the four levels. “I speak to you not as master of station, or as his highness or sire or whatever names we royals were given so many hundreds and hundreds of years ago. No, I speak to you as a man; a man just like you.”

He smiled at an older woman who stared at him in fear.

“Well, maybe not just like all of you. I don’t exactly have the anatomy for it. But I do have the same heart and that is from where my words usher forth.”

Eliza smiled and put her hands to her mouth, knowing the feared Teirmont storm had passed. She just hoped another wasn’t on the horizon.

“I called this meeting of passengers to show the people of Station Aelon that it is time to recognize who you are and how none of this would be possible without every single person’s effort,” Alexis said. “I witnessed that on Helios as I led regiments of men to their death. At the Battle of Aelon Prime, I watched as wave after wave of brave young men fell under the flechettes and blades of the Burdened. Those masters of warfare fought and killed blindly for the Way, not once thinking of sparing a life instead of taking it. They had no emotion in their eyes. Not like the Aelish. No, the Aelish, even in death, showed who they were. Men of courage, bravery, fear, regret, love, loss, and humanity.”

Alexis looked up towards the very top level and pointed at a woman by the railing.

“You. Ma’am, what’s your name?”

The woman looked about then replied, “Helen, your highness.” Her voice echoed about the quiet atrium.

“Helen,” Alexis nodded. “Did you lose anyone in the conflict?”

“I did, your highness,” she said with a shaky voice. “I lost my cousin.”

“Did you love him?”

“I did, sire.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Not as much as my aunt does, your highness,” Helen responded then gasped at her own impertinence. “I mean that—”

“Where is your aunt?”

“I am here, sire,” a woman responded, moving next to her niece. “I lost my son as well as a younger brother.”

“And I want you to know I am truly sorry for that,” Alexis said, bringing murmurs of surprise from the crowd. “I am sorry to all of you for the rash actions I took when I proposed sending fighters down to the planet with the rest of the stations. It was a fool’s errand and here I stand before you all, a fool.”

Voices cried out, “No” and “You are not!”. Alexis smiled and held up his hands.

“No, it’s true,” he replied and walked over to the corpses of the men he had just slain. “Here is proof of my foolishness. My continuing rashness.” He looked over his shoulder at de Morlan. “Make sure their families are taken care of for life, steward. Pay them directly from my personal accounts.”

De Morlan started to protest, but Eliza’s hand on his arm quieted him.

“I wish I could pay all of those that lost loved ones under my leadership on the planet,” Alexis announced. “But I cannot. Instead, I can offer you a chance to stop me, or any master from here on out, from acting like a fool. By creating a meeting of passengers, I am creating a legislative body that can keep the monarchy, as well as the meeting of stewards, in check. If any other leader decides he will use the people of this station like pawns, he will have to ask the people’s permission directly. That is my payment and my penance for my sins.”

He turned about in a circle, making sure to look at the entire atrium, making sure they saw the sincerity on his face.

“Thank you for being here today,” Alexis said. “And I hope you can forgive me for what I have done and will have presence of mind to keep me from repeating it.”

The atrium was silent for several seconds then voices were lifted as one in a riotous cheer. Arms were pumped into the air, scarves and hats tossed about, women and men turned and kissed passionately as everyone was swept up in the moment.

One of the kissed was Alexis as Eliza hurried to him and nearly leapt into his arms.

“That is the master I love and the man I married,” she cried just before her mouth found his.

De Morlan stood there, happy to see the sway his master had over the people, but saddened by the blood that still pooled upon the ground and the corpses that were being gently lifted up and carried away. He watched one body being taken through the crowd when he saw Steward Stolt staring at him. The man smiled then nodded and slipped back into the still cheering throng.

The steward was not comforted by Stolt’s smile.

“Your highness,” Corbin said roughly. “I would feel much more comfortable if I could show you back to your table. There is still much tension here.”

“Yes, of course, Corbin,” Alexis replied as he lifted his wife up into his arms.

The crowd quickly parted for the master and mistress, and many hands reached out to touch the passing royals. It took them some time to get to their seats as every steward in their path insisted on saying words and congratulating the master on such a fine speech and such honest sentiments.

By the time Alexis was seated again, his arms felt like wilted scrim grass and he was sweating heavily. Eliza laughed at a joke a steward told and glanced over at her husband to see how he liked it, when she saw the look on his face.

“Oh, for Helios’s sake,” she whispered as she moved her chair closer. “You’ve hurt yourself, haven’t you?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. She raised her eyebrows quickly and he closed his eyes. “Yes. My wound is on fire.”

“Corbin,” Eliza ordered and the man came forward.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Can you provide us with some privacy, please?”

“Certainly,” he replied and snapped his fingers.

Several guards came forward and cleared the area around the master’s seat, creating a human wall of privacy.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Eliza said as she untucked her husband’s tunic and pulled the shirt up over his head. “Helios…”

The wound was puffy and an angry red. Black lines spread out form the oozing gash and Eliza’s fingers traced them, measuring each one. She narrowed her eyes and patted her husband’s cheek.

“How long have these lines been here?” she asked, her tone telling Alexis that anything less than the truth would not be accepted.

“Since yesterday,” he admitted.

“You worked hard to make sure I didn’t notice,” she responded. “While I applaud your effort, I condemn your deceit. I should make you stand up and give a speech on that.”

“I’m all speeched out.” Alexis grimaced as Eliza pressed her fingers to the wound.

“We need to get you to the physicians,” she replied.

“No,” Alexis said, his voice strong and unwavering. “I stay here. If I leave then this all falls apart. The meeting of passengers is more important than one wounded master of station.”

“Not to me,” Eliza snapped.

“Yes, even to you,” Alexis said and kissed her before she could argue. “Because it will be important to our children and our children’s children. This is my legacy, not a failed war on the planet.”

Eliza took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

“Fine,” she said. “But the second it is politically prudent for you to leave then you leave. No arguments.”

“No arguments,” Alexis nodded and kissed her again.

“Good,” she said as she pulled away and helped him settle his tunic. “Then call this meeting to order and let’s see what the people of Station Aelon have in store for us.”

* * *

From a far corner of the very top level railing, a man stood, a mess of wild, curly red hair tucked into the hood of a breen cloak. His hands were lifted in front of his eyes and stayed there for a long while. When they were finally dropped they revealed a set of binoculars clutched in his gloved fingers.

“Not quite the outcome we had hoped for,” a voice said from back in the shadows.

The hooded man turned to face the voice and peered into the gloom.

“For a moment there I thought the master would do my work for me,” the hooded man said. “He almost lost the station in one fit of homicidal rage.”

“You’d be surprised how many times that scenario has played out through the ages with the Teirmont family,” the shadowed man replied.

The man in the hood looked about and stepped towards the shadows, gesturing to a barely visible door set into the metal wall.

“Follow me,” the hooded man said. “We can talk in private.”

“I only have a couple of minutes before I’ll be missed,” the shadowed man replied.

“It will only take a couple of minutes,” the hooded man said as he opened the door and slipped inside.

The man in the shadows looked about the platform, but no one paid him any notice. They were all too engrossed in the proceedings below. He followed quickly and found himself in a tight corridor. The man in the hood was already several yards away, waiting by another door.

“For a man who is short on time, you sure are taking yours,” the hooded man laughed. “Get a sense of urgency, steward.”

“Quiet,” the shadowed man hissed as his face was illuminated by the dim lighting that flickered above. Steward Girard Stolt. “If anyone over hears you it will be both of our heads.”

“No, it will be your head,” the hood man replied. “I’m the outlaw and not exactly easy to catch.”

“I could call my guards right now and have you arrested,” Stolt responded. “I’d be an instant hero.”

“To the gentry, yes,” the other man said. “But not to anyone on the decks. And especially not to the lower decks. You’d become Target Number One like that.” He snapped his fingers then pointed to the door. “In.”

Stolt strode to the door and entered the small room, his muscles tense and eyes wary. It would be a perfect trap and the lower decks would make a killing if they ransomed him. At least that’s what Stolt wanted to believe. Deep inside he wondered if Master Alexis would even pay a single credit for his hide. Despite being cousins, their alliance was shaky at best.

“Sit,” the hooded man said. “There.”

“In the chair?” Stolt sneered. “What an amazing idea. And who would have thought the leader of the lower decks rebellion could be so creative.”

“Sarcasm is not your strong suit, steward,” the man replied as he removed his hood to reveal a handsome, youthful face. A mass of red hair poofed out from his head and he smoothed it down as best he could with his hands. “Stick with the threats, they sound more authentic.”

“You called me here,” Stolt glared. “Now what do you want?”

“More funds,” the man replied. “And weapons. I hear there’s a new sling being talked about on the surface. Tell me about it.”

“It’s nothing,” Stolt said. “Some idiot deck boss from one of my sectors believes he has created the best thing since our ancestors realized they could throw rocks to kill each other.”

“Never underestimate the power of a good rock,” the man laughed. “I learned that on Aelon Prime.”

“Right, you were a Vape miner once, weren’t you?” Stolt said. “Any nasty scars to show for it?”

“More than you have time to see,” the man said. “Tell me about the weapon.”

“It’s nothing, I tell you,” Stolt insisted. “And besides, I’ve made sure my agents squashed any chance of its production. The monarchy will not have access to any other weapons than you do.”

“That’s the problem, steward,” the man said. “We don’t have access to weapons. Unless you count monkey wrenches and bolt hammers. My men need blades. We need slings and flechettes. We need real arms if we are going to be able to truly fight.”

The man started to pace the room, his eyes never leaving Stolt’s.

“Do you have access to a weaponsmith?” the man asked.

“I do, of course,” Stolt replied. “I have a stable of them in each sector. When the station goes to war, the monarchy looks to me to outfit them.”

“You mean the monarchy looked to your father,” the man said. “You have yet to prove yourself with anything.”

“Then I’ll prove myself by getting you what you need,” Stolt said. “With a price, of course.”

“We can pay,” the man said. “There are others in places of power that have the same goals as the lower decks. Well, they think they do. You’re the only one that really knows our aim.”

“Complete independence,” Stolt sighed. “I know your pipe dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” the man said cooly. “You would be wise to believe that.”

He pulled a long roll of paper from his cloak and handed it to the steward.

“I need a hundred of those as soon as possible,” the man stated. “Plus regular long blades, short blades, slings and mounds of flechette cartridges. If this is going to be a war then I need war supplies.”

Stolt unrolled the paper and looked at the schematics before him. He shook his head and his eyes went wide.

“Do you know how much a blade like this will weigh?” he asked, shocked at the listed specs on the paper. “How can someone wield this? It would take two hands and even then I doubt it would be effective.”

“How heavy do you think a rotational torque wrench is? Or a span driver?” the man laughed. “That in your hands is nothing. Just like the real blades that will come from those plans will weigh nothing to us. We’ve been preparing for this for centuries. Now it is our time.”

“You mean it is your time,” Stolt said as he rolled up the paper. “But this isn’t just about you, is it? This is about you regaining some lost glory you believe your family possessed generations ago.”

Stolt stood and tucked the roll inside his own cloak he had wrapped about his tunic. He shook his head as he walked to the door.

“Be careful, Lucas Langley,” Stolt said at the door. “Most of the time staying in the shadows is better than being in the light.”

“Says the man that lives on the Surface,” Lucas Langley replied. “I’m sick of the shadows.”

Act II—A Rebellion Halted

“The reign of Alexis I of Station Aelon has been studied for centuries. The vision, the fortitude, the eventual decline, and most of all, the black mark that was the lower decks rebellion. It could have been a reign that surpassed all others before it, but in the end, it comes down to a hurt and angry monarch versus the voice of a people. A sad tale told many times over.”

—Dr. D. Reven, Eighty-Third Archivist of The Way

“I don’t know what they talk about up on the surface of Station Aelon, but down here, in the lower decks, we talk about being equal. We talk about getting a better life for our children and grandchildren. We talk about being more than just cogs in the nobility’s machine. We talk about everything. And that talk is what frightens them the most.”

—Lucas Langley, Liberty Tapes (unabridged)

“When your enemy comes to you, do not hesitate. They are not there for you; they are not there to support your position. Strike first, strike hard, and let Helios know you will not waver in righteousness.”

—Book of the Lesson 21:4, The Ledger

“He was a stupid gnat that had to be crushed. My father did what was right and what was just. You can’t have blights like that on Station Aelon. That blight spreads and then all that is beautiful is ruined. I abhor the ruination of beauty.”

—Journals of Alexis II, Master of Aelon Station

Chapter Four

“My whole damn life is babies!” Esther shouted as she set her infant brother down on the bed, a fresh diaper over her shoulder and a soiled one waiting for her. “I’ll never marry and have children! Why would I need to?”

“Hush now,” Eliza scolded as she hurried around the royal quarters, looking for a shoe here, an errant sock there, all in order to get the family prepared for the day’s festivities. “You’re scaring Alexis.”

“Oh, I am not,” Esther grumbled. “Look at the little turd. He’s the happiest baby I’ve ever seen.”

“You said turd,” James laughed, his four year old finger up his four year old nose.

“Stop that!” Bora scolded, her hand slapping her little brother’s finger right from his nostril. “Haley! Why aren’t you watching James?”

“She’s using the bathroom,” Eliza sighed. “Let her pee in peace.”

“She’s not using the bathroom,” Thomas said. “She’s in the closet reading.”

“She’s what?” Eliza snapped. “We are going to be late for the procession and she’s reading?”

“Better than changing diapers,” Esther responded. “I’m serious, Mother. I am not getting married and I am not having children.”

“You say that now, but give it a couple of years and you’ll change your mind,” Eliza said.

“You were already married when you were my age, Mother,” Esther replied.

“I had just gotten married at thirteen,” Eliza said.

“Then had me four years later,” Esther said. “You want me to start having babies at seventeen? Is that what you mean by give it a couple of years?”

“No, Esther Teirmont, I do not want you to start having babies at seventeen,” Eliza replied. “I want you to live your life and be happy, any way you want. But right now? Your life is mine and that means changing Alexis’s diaper.”

“Why does he get to be Alexis?” Thomas asked. “I was the first born son, why didn’t I get named after Father?”

“Because you were named after your great, great, great grandfather,” Eliza said. “He was a Master of Station Aelon like no other. His wife, Mistress Imelda, was known as the Lady of the Breen because of her father’s holdings she brought with her.”

“Those were the Thraen holdings Father went to fight for when I was little, right?” Thomas asked. “That led to the Treaty of the Primes.”

“It was much more complicated than that,” Eliza said, finding a half eaten sandwich behind a throw pillow on one of the couches. “Really?”

“I leave it there in case I get hungry,” James said, running forward to take the sandwich from his mother. “It’s my four o’clock sandwich.”

“Sweet Helios,” Eliza sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a nurse or two right now.”

“We’d have one if Father could defeat that nasty lowdecker,” Esther smirked. “But even a good job isn’t enough to fight Lucas Langley’s song of liberty. Ha!”

“Don’t mock your people, Esther,” Eliza scolded. “Whether they disagree with you, refuse to work for you, foment rebellion against you, or talk of murdering you, they are still your people. You learn to understand them, and if possible, forgive them.”

“For raising arms against the nobility and royalty?” Esther laughed. “They should all be ejected into space so they can float towards Helios and burn up as they plummet to the planet.”

Eliza shook her head and frowned at her eldest child.

“I’m glad I get to rule Station Aelon next and not her,” Thomas said. “She’d throw me into space for just going into her room without asking.”

“Then don’t go into my room without asking!” Esther shouted. “You little snot!”

The baby on the bed began to whimper then cry at Esther’s outburst.

“Esther, please,” Eliza groaned. “Can’t you try to be agreeable today? Just one day and then you can go back to your moody self.”

“I’m moody? Father’s the moody one,” Esther replied as she was pushed out of the way by her mother.

“That’s because he has been fighting a rebellion for seven years now,” Eliza replied as she double checked her daughter’s work then picked up her swaddled infant son. “Try ruling a station when a quarter of the passengers want to secede from your rule. See how your mood is then.”

“I’d love to see that,” Esther grinned. “But I’m a woman and can’t rule.”

“You’re a girl and can’t rule,” Minoress Melinda said as she came into the room. “And a good thing since I haven’t heard once of a successful reign by a spoiled brat.”

Esther stood there, her mouth open, and just gaped at her aunt.

“What?” Melinda asked, looking over at Eliza and giving her a wink. “You think you aren’t a spoiled brat? Try visiting the lower decks. Then you’ll see just how good you have it. And trust me, from one that watched her younger brother take the crown, ruling isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Better Alexis than me any day. I certainly don’t need white hair at the age of thirty.”

“Do you mind?” Eliza asked as she held out Alexis to her sister-in-law. “I have to pee again.”

“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Melinda smirked.

“Helios no!” Eliza exclaimed. “Just under the weather. Can’t stop peeing and my back hurts.”

“Uh-oh,” Melinda frowned. “Sounds like a urinary tract infection. Better have a physician check you over. If it gets into your kidneys then you could be in trouble.” She shooed the mistress away. “Go pee, woman. We have to be leaving soon.”

“Yuck,” Esther grimaced. “I don’t need to hear this.”

“It’s because of the rotational gravity drive slowing down,” Thomas said. “My friend, Bibby, says that the lowdeckers have slowed down the station’s spin and now people are getting sick and going mad.”

“The station’s rotational gravity has not been changed,” Melinda said. “That’s just fearmongering. Your friend Bibby is an idiot and you shouldn’t listen to him.”

“Her,” Thomas replied.

“You shouldn’t listen to her then,” Melinda said. “Open a book, child. You’ll see that the rotational gravity drive has two settings: working and not working. If it stopped working then we’d all be floating on the ceiling. Are we floating?”

“No,” Thomas said. “But that would be fun.”

“Yeah,” James nodded, his finger back in his nose. “That would be fun.”

Melinda rocked Alexis back and forth in her arms and cooed at him then looked over at her niece.

“What’s up your gully?” Melinda asked.

“Auntie!” Esther blushed at the slang term for her privates. “Not around the little ones!”

“Like they haven’t heard worse from your father or your mother,” Melinda laughed. “Or from you, either, minoress. I’ve heard you curse like a Vape miner plenty of times.”

“Ahhh, better,” Eliza smiled as she came back from the bathroom then looked at her second youngest son. “That finger is going to get stuck in there, you know. Think of all the horrible names the people will call you then.”

James’s eyes went wide and he yanked his finger out of his nose. “I don’t want to be called names.”

“Then act like you are supposed to,” Eliza said. She looked about the main room of the royal quarters and frowned. “Is Haley still in the closet? Haley!”

“I’m here,” Haley said, walking from her bedchamber, book in hand. “Can I bring this to the procession?”

“No, you may not,” Eliza said. “You won’t have any time to read. We’ll be shaking hands and curtseying to the nobility as well as the delegates from the lower decks.”

“I’m not curtseying, I’m bowing,” Thomas said.

“Not with a girl face like that,” Esther said and smacked him on the back of the head.

“Knock it off!” Eliza roared and everyone in the room froze in place. “Be good! Just for today, you need to be good!”

A loud chime sounded and Melinda handed the baby Alexis to Eliza. “Here. This one hasn’t spoiled yet. I’ll make sure the brood is herded along behind you. You just keep eyes forward, head up, back straight, and look like the great mistress that you are.”

Alexis burped and a wad of curdled milk spewed across Eliza’s formal tunic and shawl.

“Oh, for Helios’s sake,” Eliza said, her eyes filling with tears. “I pray today is the end of this conflict. I need a nurse back so badly.”

“We all need our servants back,” Melinda said, taking the baby from Eliza once again as the mistress stripped off her tunic and hurried into her bedchamber. “Won’t stop this one from puking though.”

“No, but he’d puke on a nurse and not me!” Eliza called from the bedchamber.

* * *

“Seven years of conflict,” Alexis said from the head of the long table. “That is a long time to hold out against an entire station.”

The master’s blond hair hung down to his shoulders, his blue eyes staring daggers at the man at the far end of the table from him. They were the only two seated, their advisors standing directly behind them, eyes locked on their counterparts at the other ends.

Alexis lifted a glass of gelberry wine and sipped at it, his eyes never leaving his adversary’s. A dribble of the pinkish liquid dripped from his lip and onto his neatly trimmed beard; a beard that was streaked with white and covered a long scar that crisscrossed his chin.

“I am not holding out against an entire station, Alexis,” Lucas Langley replied, taking a flask from the pocket of his worn and tattered cloak. He uncorked it and swigged liberally, smacking his lips when he was done. “I have only had to hold out against the royalty, nobility, and gentry. The passengers have been very accommodating. It’s almost as if they want change as well.”

“They have gotten change,” Alexis replied, setting his glass down a little too hard.

Gelberry wine splashed onto his hand and he stared at it for a second, watching the drops slide down his hand over skin that was cracked and dry from wearing thick, breen gloves under battle gauntlets for so long. He finally looked back up and grinned wide. No one standing by the table, or standing at attention along the wall of the great hall, had any illusions of mirth from that smile.

“The meeting of passengers was created to address every concern you have had,” Alexis said. “But you never gave it a chance. You started this war before I could do what was needed to equalize the balance of power on Station Aelon. All the blood that has been shed these last few years is on your hands, Lucas. Not mine.”

“I can accept some of that blame,” Langley replied. “But not all. You made choices, or better yet, your stewards made choices that were beyond ruthless. I have lists of innocents slaughtered at the hands of your men. Slaughtered by everything from your fancy longslings to basic fire axes. Not just adults, but children. Entire passageways wiped out. That is on you.”

Alexis felt the weight of the words and wanted to acknowledge them, but he had been advised not to concede a single point. De Morlan and Stolt, in a rare moment of agreement, both told Alexis that even if Langley said that his breen trousers were blue, he would have to argue that they were red.

It was not advice Alexis found helpful or comforting.

“I have wanted nothing but peace,” Alexis said. “Despite what you think. I have reached out to you through the years with treaties and offers of asylum. You have rejected every single one with the murder of my messengers, sending their severed heads back as your answer.”

“Yet you still sent them,” Langley laughed. “How many messenger volunteers do you have left? My blade has been lonely these past few months. I almost killed the last one, but decided I would hear the poor wretch out. Thus I am here.” He took another pull from his flask them placed it back in his cloak. “Explain your terms so I can reject them and we can get back to work, Alexis.”

“Sire, I cannot allow this disrespect!” de Morlan cried from just behind Alexis and to the right, his hand on the hilt of his long blade. “He will address you properly or I’ll cut out his tongue!”

“Stay yourself, steward,” Stolt said from the other side of the master’s chair. “He is less than a passenger and was raised poorly, just like all the lowdeckers.”

“You see, Alexis,” Langley smiled, brushing a lock of his wild, curly red hair from his face. Just like Alexis’s beard, Langley’s hair was streaked with white. Smugness was not defense enough against the stress and trials of war. “Lowdeckers. Not even considered good enough to be passengers. We are, and always have been, the castoffs. We are like the untouchables of the old fables. How could your meeting of passengers represent us? We aren’t even worthy of that title.”

“Yet you have quite a bit of passenger support,” Alexis said. “So don’t act as if you are a race of your own. No one believes that. Stewards and wardens, even deck bosses, may talk as if you are, but under the eyes of the crown, and the charter of the station, lowdeckers are passengers. Always have been and always will be. Your refusal to accept or see that is your own issue. That, my friend, is on you.”

“Tit for tat,” Langley laughed. “Tit for tat. That is the story of the last seven years. You tit, I tat. I tit, you tat. Back and forth, over and over, again and again.”

“Which is why we are here,” Alexis said. “So you can stop your idiocy and rejoin the station proper. I am willing to make concessions to the charter and adjust the scope of the meeting of passengers. I bring that to this table. What do you bring?”

“The willingness to never stop fighting,” Langley said as his laughter ended abruptly. “That has always been my offer unless you surrender the station to the people and end monarchial rule.”

Half the room erupted into shouting while the other half replied in kind. The two leaders ignored the mayhem, their eyes never leaving the others’. Eye to eye they waited, their ears taking in the insults and calls to fight that were thrown back and forth.

Finally, Alexis raised his hand and his side of the room quieted instantly. Langley’s side laughed and jeered, slinging epithets and slurs about how the men were owned and not even real people. Langley let the words be hurled for an extra minute then cleared his throat and his side slowly quieted.

“I’d say you have a knack for monarchy,” Alexis smirked. “They listen to you as if you were master.”

“They listen to me out of respect, not out of fear, as your people do you,” Langley replied. “I would gladly give up my seat here if I knew someone could do a better job.”

“Your assumption is that I would not,” Alexis said. “Let me tell you something: being master is not all feasts and evening balls. Life on the station is hard for us all.”

“But harder for most,” Langley sighed. “So stop comparing yourself to people you do not understand. If you want to experience how hard life is then toss off your shackled crown and end the rule of the masters once and for all.”

“And do what?” Stolt cried. “Bring back democracy? Turn Station Aelon into a republic? Our ancestors, the ones that fled the planet when the Vape tore apart the lands, tried democracy on the stations. It did not work then and it would not work now. The establishment of the monarchies on this station and the others, is how we kept humanity from ripping itself apart. Each man with an equal vote? Ridiculous! Nothing would be accomplished!”

“Nothing is preferable to the something we have now,” Langley replied.

“Anarchy!” someone yelled from the gallery of spectators.

“Perhaps,” Langley shrugged. “Only way to know is to try it.”

“Which will not happen,” Alexis said. “I sympathize with your cause, despite your beliefs in me. I fought side by side with many of your people during my time on the primes.” Alexis looked towards the men that stood behind Langley. “Moses. Moses Diggory. I see you standing there. You think I forgot our time in that trench, up to our asses in mud, as a flechette barrage rained over us like the air was made of metal? You think I don’t recall how we charged the line that day and pushed the burdened until their backs were up against the ocean? I see you, Diggory. I know you, Moses. And you know me. Do you truly believe your man is right and Station Aelon should be ripped apart at the seams? Is that what we both watched men die for?”

“I fought with you and for you, your highness,” replied Diggory, a short, muscular man in his late thirties. Like most of the lowdeckers, he had a shock of red hair, but his was cropped short to his scalp and not a wild halo framing his head. “I would have died for you. But that conflict is over. Now I will die for this one.”

“Fair enough,” Alexis said. “I understand your loyalty to your people and the lower decks. It was that loyalty that I admired in you all those years ago.”

“Why are we here, Alexis?” Langley asked. “Tell me what you will so I can refuse and be done with your castle and all the wealth it represents.”

Alexis furrowed his brow then slowly smiled as he looked about the great hall. Centuries old tapestries hung along the walls, depicting scenes from station history that many of the professors and teachers no longer understood. The grey metal walls that peeked out from behind the tapestries were stained with rust and pocked with corrosion. Alexis laughed at the idea of wealth, knowing that the conflict had nearly drained his coffers.

“You know nothing,” Alexis said finally. “You have your head shoved so far up into your little world that you forget we aren’t the only station in this system. You call this wealth? I call it decrepitude. Funds that should be going to badly needed repairs are instead going to pay for an internal war that we cannot keep fighting!”

The master stood up quickly, knocking his chair back and making the entire hall jump. Hands went to blades, slings were raised, eyes watched and waited for the signal to fight.

“Stop it,” Alexis said quietly. “Release your arms.”

He began to pace back and forth as he shook his head.

“The issues you have with the monarchy are from the reigns before mine,” Alexis said, turning and pacing, turning and pacing. “I saw those issues, I felt them too. Not as you felt them since I was raised in this castle of wealth.”

He laughed bitterly and stopped his pacing, slapping his hands on the table.

“From the moment I took the crown I set out to change what was wrong with Station Aelon. As did you. This conflict isn’t about two sides fighting for their beliefs. It’s about bad timing. You saw an opportunity to go after a young, new master. I saw an opportunity to use my youth and place to go after an old, weak nobility. We both wanted what was right for the station and its people. We just attacked it from two ends, not two sides.”

“I think you have oversimplified what I fight for,” Langley responded.

“No, I have not,” Alexis said. “Because there is nothing simple about any of this. Do you have any idea the resistance I encountered when I proposed the meeting of passengers? The odds were very strong it would never have even seen more than the first session. But your attacks gave me the power to insist upon the meeting as a way to bring passengers into the fold and away from you. Your rebellion has strengthened the meeting of passengers, not weakened it. Now help me strengthen it even more.”

Langley watched the impassioned master closely, looking for the deceit and lie he knew was just under the surface. But he couldn’t find it and finally nodded.

“Strengthen how?” he asked.

“Lucas,” Diggory hissed. “Don’t even entertain the thought. The Lower—”

Langley held up his hand and the man fell silent. “I’ll hear out the master about what he proposes.”

Alexis smiled and then sat back down.

“Good,” he said and snapped his fingers. A thick stack of papers was set before him as a porter hustled down to the other end of the table and set a copy of the papers before Langley. “We better get started. This will take a while.”

* * *

“You can’t be serious, sire!” Stolt almost yelled when the great hall had finally cleared and all that were left were Stolt, de Morlan, Derrick, and Eliza. The latter having been grudgingly accepted by the former two. “This is just one step closer to democracy! A form of governance that nearly brought our ancestors to their knees! The very people with the intelligence and knowledge to build the stations! Do you think you know more than they did about the dangers of popular rule?”

“Careful, Girard,” Derrick said. “You are speaking to the master, remember.”

“I know exactly to whom I speak!” Stolt snapped. “A fool that will give everything away that we fought so hard for!”

“That I fought so hard for,” Alexis corrected. “Of the people in this room, I was the only one to take up arms and bleed for this station. The rest of you did no such thing. I don’t begrudge that, Steward Stolt, as you were all needed here, but never attempt to speak as if you know what it is like to stand on a battlefield with your comrades’ guts splattered across your polybreen armor.”

Stolt started to speak, but stopped. He took a deep breath and then continued. “My apologies, sire. I would never presume to understand the horrors you experienced.”

“Apology accepted, Cousin Stolt,” Alexis responded. “And my apologies are also offered if I offended any of you. I know your roles on the station were of the utmost importance. Derrick, my brother, you reigned in my stead once father died.”

“I reigned while he lived,” Derrick replied. “He was not one to cross T’s or dot I’s.”

“Very true,” Alexis smiled. “And Alasdair, your years of service have made you invaluable to the Master of Station Aelon, no matter who that person may be.”

“I thank you, sire,” de Morlan said.

“And my wife,” Alexis grinned. “I’m nothing without you. This family, and its legacy, would be nothing without you.”

“But you plan to give part of that legacy away,” Eliza said, surprising everyone except for Alexis. “I have some of the same worries as the stewards. But I know you and I trust you must do what your heart says.”

“Thank you, my love,” Alexis said. “There is no backing out of this now. I have signed the accord and the changes will be made to the charter and to the meeting of passengers. Elections will be held by season’s end. I want this business behind us so we as a station can enjoy Last Meal with the rest of the System. By Helios, I am too tired and getting too old to keep fighting.”

“You are thirty, Alexis,” Eliza smirked. “That is hardly too old.”

“It feels it though,” Alexis sighed. “It’s like I never left the battlefield. I was born there, I live there, I’ll die there.”

“Stop it,” Eliza said. “You’re being maudlin and morose.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Derrick asked.

“Are we playing crosswords now?” Eliza snapped.

Derrick shrank back and held up his hands. “Sorry. I was just playing.”

“I believe my wife is as tired as I am,” Alexis chuckled. “A new baby will do that.”

“As will raising five other children with that new baby,” Eliza said. “If we get one thing out of this, it will be to have all of our servants and nurses back. It’s petty to say, I know, but I too feel like I have been at battle my whole life. I’m just battling diapers and tantrums instead of blades and flechettes.”

“I know my dear Lesha could use some help in our manor house,” de Morlan responded. “She has kept us to our chambers most nights in order to avoid looking at the squalor the place has fallen into.”

“You see?” Alexis said. “This is why I have signed the accord. We are complaining about not having servants while the lowdeckers complain about not having rights. They get freedoms they didn’t have before and we get clean toilet seats once again.”

“Our toilet seats are plenty clean,” Eliza said. “I do make the children earn their keep in some respects.”

“Minors and minoresses cleaning toilets,” Stolt huffed. “The lowdeckers should pay just for the indignity they have brought on the crown.”

“Have you not been listening to me, Cousin?” Alexis asked.

“I have, I have,” Stolt said. “But understanding and acceptance are two different things. As you will see once the meeting of stewards convenes next week. They have to ratify the accord, remember. This is not settled yet.”

“Which is why I expect everyone in this room to be busy these next few days drumming up support,” Alexis said as he stood. “We will get the votes, of that I have no doubt, but I want more than just a majority. I want a consensus. I want the nobility to be in agreement so we can truly move forward and make Aelon the station it was always meant to be.”

“But first we sleep,” Eliza laughed as she stood up and took her husband’s hand. “The children are with your sister tonight. I have expressed enough milk for Alexis to eat until lunch tomorrow. We can fall into our bed and sleep as long as we want.”

“I could sleep for eternity,” Alexis said as he kissed his wife deeply. “So we don’t exactly get to sleep as long as we want.”

“I’ll make sure the royal quarters are not disturbed,” Derrick said. “Then starting tomorrow I will work on swaying support for the accord.”

“As will I.” de Morlan bowed.

All eyes looked to Stolt. He shook his head then shrugged.

“I will do everything in my power to see your vision through, your highness,” Stolt said. “I may disagree, but only because I do not have the view that you do from your position. I’ll get the support we need.”

“Thank you, Cousin.” Alexis smiled then yawned. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, it has been a long day.”

The three men bowed as Alexis and Eliza left the great hall, trailed closely behind by Corbin and a contingent of the royal guards. Once the echoes of the doors shutting faded away, the three men all took seats at the long table.

“Can it be done?” Derrick asked.

“Possibly,” de Morlan replied.

“Highly unlikely,” Stolt added. “But the master has already pushed us down this path. If we don’t get the support he needs then he will look weak which means the entire station looks weak to the rest of the System. That is something we must stress when we present the accord to our fellow stewards.”

“Then we better get to it,” Derrick said as he stood up and stretched. “I’m done for the night. We’ll check in with each other tomorrow?”

“Of course,” de Morlan said.

“Certainly,” Stolt responded.

The two stewards watched the minor leave then looked at each other across the table.

“Do I need to worry about you, Stolt?” de Morlan asked.

“Worry? About me? Whatever for?”

De Morlan studied the younger man for a second then shook his head. “You are good, Girard. Better than your father and better even than his father. The way you navigate politics is a sight to behold.”

“I’m thinking that wasn’t a compliment,” Stolt smiled.

“You have more sectors than any other steward. Yet why do I have the feeling that you have higher ambitions than just steward?” de Morlan asked then stood up and held out his hands. “Don’t bother answering. Whatever you say will be calculated and less than sincere. Just know that I have zero intention of letting the master’s plans for Station Aelon fail. You have been warned.”

“That I have,” Stolt said, still smiling. “Good night, Alasdair.”

“Good night, Girard.”

Steward Stolt waited until he was alone in the great hall before he stood up as well.

“Fools,” he whispered.

* * *

The sound of blades being drawn was like thunder in the close quarters of the passageway.

“You,” Diggory sneered as Stolt walked out of the shadows, his hands raised. “In a million years I never would have thought it was you.”

“That was the point,” Stolt said. “If the lowdeckers would never suspect it then why would the stewards? Or the master?”

Diggory watched as the man before him removed his breen gloves and tucked them into his belt. One of those hands was extended and the lowdecker just stared, looking at the appendage as if it were covered in filth.

“I don’t do business with those that refuse to at least be civil,” Stolt said.

Diggory reluctantly shook the offered hand and then wiped his palm as if he’d been contaminated.

“How pleasant,” Stolt said. “Your leader had more tact. Much more. Which doesn’t put you in the greatest light since Langley’s tact was almost nil.”

“Why’d you reach out to me?” Diggory asked. “Why not one of the others?”

Stolt looked past the lowdecker to the group of armed men behind him.

“It looks like you brought them all with you anyway,” Stolt said. “I believe you misunderstood my request for you to come alone.”

“My need to live is stronger than any traitor’s request,” Diggory laughed. “But you needn’t worry. These are all my men. Not one of them would dare speak a word of this meeting without knowing their privates will be taken from between their legs and stuffed into their mouths.”

“Delightful,” Stolt frowned. “Can’t you just kill a man? Why does everything with you lowdeckers involve removing private parts and feeding them to your enemies?”

“Because it’s fun,” Diggory said. “Now what business do you have for me?”

“The same business I have had for Langley,” Stolt said. “Weapons, of course. You will need them, and a lot of them, very soon. I can provide you with a fresh supply of those horrendous blades your people prefer as well as possibly getting you the plans to the longsling. If you were to have that in your arsenal then I believe you might actually win the next round of conflicts.”

“Next round?” Diggory asked, his eyes narrowing. “There will be no next round with the accord being signed.”

“The accord will not be signed,” Stolt said. “I can guarantee that.”

“How?”

“I have my ways,” Stolt shrugged. “The accord will never finalized.”

“You make no sense,” Diggory replied. “You would undermine your position for what? Profit?”

“The only thing undermined is the monarchy,” Stolt snapped. “My place will always be secure.”

“Then why should I help you?” Diggory asked. “Why support another overseer?”

“Because the overseer you have now has caved in and given away your freedoms for the illusion of peace,” Stolt said. “Have you read the accord?”

“I have,” Diggory nodded.

“And was there anything in there about disbanding the monarchy?”

“No, not a thing.”

“And isn’t that the basic tenet of your entire rebellion? To take down the monarchy?”

“It was,” Diggory replied. “But there has to be compromise somewhere.”

Stolt started to laugh, but kept it under control as he saw the fire build in the man’s eyes.

“I am sorry. Forgive me,” Stolt said and bowed slightly. “But monarchs do not compromise. Langley has given up. He has left your people to trade one mantle for another. That is all. That is why I have come to you. Because I know deep in that lowdecker heart of yours, you think compromise is an abomination. Did Helios compromise when he devoured the other gods? Will the Dear Parent compromise when the Final Feast happens and he devours all of existence?”

“No,” Diggory said and was echoed by his men behind him.

“No,” Stolt smiled. “Then let’s talk terms. I was a little harsh with Langley on the profit margin, but you, Diggory? I see good things with you and might be able to lower my price if you are willing to take a good quantity of blades.”

“What about the longsling?” Diggory asked, already hooked and almost landed.

“Let’s focus on those blades first,” Stolt said. “Once you take control of the station then the longsling will come into play. Can you imagine what the other stations would pay for that design? Best to keep that in your back pocket.”

“You have to think long term,” Diggory nodded.

“I knew I liked you, my good man,” Stolt replied. “You are a man with true vision, that is for sure.”

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” Dormin Sloughtor said as he stood next to Derrick in the lift. “The stewards each want their own copy of the accord? Signed? Why?”

“I don’t know, Dormin,” Derrick said. “But do shut up about it.”

“Yes, sire,” Dormin replied. “I apologize. It is not my place to criticize the nobility. I am here merely to serve you.”

“That’s right,” Derrick said and gave the man’s cheek a firm pat. “And the way you’ll serve me best is by keeping your mouth shut once we get down to the lower decks. And also by lugging the copies of the accord for me.”

Dormin looked at the handcart stacked with heavy boxes filled with copies of the accord. He sighed and said a few words of prayer for his poor back. He had been Master Henry III’s valet at one time, but that was many years ago. Now he was relegated to be the minor’s assistant in all matters. There were plenty of worse jobs for an aging servant, so he didn’t complain. Much.

“We will be at your beck and call at all times, my lord,” a guard said from the back of the lift. “And I would still like to stress that we should take point. Letting you walk from this lift unprotected is not a wise strategy.”

“Nockmon, right?” Derrick asked.

“Yes, my lord,” the guard nodded.

“Well, Nockmon, what do you think will happen if I let the royal guard lead the way? What would you do if heavily armed men came out of the lift at you?” Derrick asked. The man was silent. “Exactly. If I walk out of this lift first then it shows that the monarchy has faith in the accord. If you walk out first then it can be interpreted a million ways, one of which is as an attack. We’d be under siege before I could even get past you to explain.”

“Of course, my lord,” Nockmon nodded. “I was only thinking of your safety.”

“And I’m thinking of the entire station’s safety,” Derrick replied. “That’s why I’m a Teirmont and you are not.”

“Yes, my lord,” Nockmon replied. “As you wish, my lord.”

“You bet your Vape ass it’s as I wish,” Derrick grumbled. “Shitty enough I have to do this duty. I sure as Helios don’t need a guard questioning my moves.”

“My lord! I was never questioning—”

“Oh, shut up,” Derrick said. “I was talking to myself. I had a long night last night with some of the pleasure girls in Sector Forbine. You know how those women are trained, right? You get your credits’ worth there, that’s for sure.”

“I’ve never had the opportunity, my lord,” Nockman responded. “The pleasure girls in Forbine are strictly for the nobility.”

Derrick kicked the boxes of accords. “Should have had that put into this thing,” he laughed. “Although I would guess that in of itself would prevent the stewards from signing off! The nobility doesn’t like to share whores with commoners. I could give a grendt’s ass feathers who a whore screws as long as she washes up after. Right, Dormin?”

“If you say so, my lord,” Dormin frowned.

Derrick was about to respond when the lift lurched to a halt and the doors slowly slid to the side. Everyone inside tensed as they faced the unexpected.

“Ah, good,” a man said as he stepped forward to take the hand cart. “We were hoping it was you coming down. Langley is not happy about this and having to sign all of these copies will cut into the important business of his day.”

“No one said it would be easy to wrap up a rebellion,” Derrick said, looking the man square in the eye.

“You are addressing Minor Derrick Teirmont, lowdecker,” Dormin snapped, slapping the man’s hand away from the cart.

“I know who I’m addressing,” the man said. “We’ve been expecting you.” He reached out once more, but his hand was slapped again. “Stop doing that! I’m here to help wheel this into Langley’s quarters for you!”

“I have been entrusted by the meeting of stewards to see that these copies of the accord are delivered directly to Lucas Langley,” Dormin nearly shouted. “I just spent four hours on a lift to come down to this Helios forsaken place and I will not have an impertinent commoner like you take that duty from me!”

“Calm down, Dormin,” Derrick said. “He’s not taking it from you, just helping you wheel it to Langley. That is a good thing since it will get us there faster and get this job over and done with.”

“Of course, my lord,” Dormin said. “I spoke out of turn.”

Derrick shook his head and looked at the lowdecker sent to greet them. “What’s your name?”

“Sperry Langthon,” the man replied. “I’m from one of the original engineering families of the lower decks.” He nodded towards the lift. “My great grandfather ten generations back invented the servo in the lifts that allows it to maintain equilibrium even when getting closer to the rotational drive core. You think four hours is long? It used to take three days to get from the surface to this deck before that. Show a little respect, will ya?”

“My respect is earned, not shown,” Dormin snapped.

“Dormin? Calm down,” Derrick said. “Just push the cart and let’s get done with this business.”

“Yes, my lord,” Dormin nodded then looked at Langthon. “Will you lead or should I guess where I am going?”

“Testy servant you got there,” Langthon smiled. “We could use his scrap down here.”

“I would never—”

“Dormin, shut up,” Derrick growled. “No more talking. That’s an order.”

Dormin nodded and waited for Langthon to show the way.

“Come on,” the lowdecker waved. “Langley is this way. We don’t got no fancy great hall for you to see. You’ll just have to make do with the mess hall like the rest of us.”

Langthon and the rest of the lowdeckers turned and started walking briskly down the passageway. Not another soul was seen as they passed door after door, passageway intersection after passageway intersection, but the sound of whispers and hushed exclamations could be heard in their wake.

“We are being intentionally mislead, my lord,” Nockmon said quietly from behind Derrick. “It does not take this long to get to the mess hall on this deck.”

“It does if you have to go around all the fortifications we have in place,” Langthon responded, making it known he could hear the man perfectly well. “Feel privileged you are being allowed this far into the heart of things. Just a couple days ago and you wouldn’t have lived long enough to take five steps off that lift.”

“Yes, we feel quite privileged,” Derrick said. “The honor is overwhelming.”

“I am sure it is,” Langthon snorted. “You can express your gratitude directly to Langley. We’re here.”

Langthon stopped before a set of double doors. He pushed them wide with both hands until they locked into place then stepped aside for Dormin to wheel the cart of boxes into the dimly lit mess hall. Men and women that were busy chatting and eating all stopped and turned to look at the delegation from the surface.

“No weapons,” Langthon said, stepping in front of the royal guards after Derrick and Dormin had already entered.

“My lord?” Nockmon said. “I cannot give up my blades to these men.”

“Understood,” Derrick said then looked about the mess hall at the many heavy blades set upon benches and on tops of the tables. “Then I would expect the same from your people. My guards will leave their weapons out in the passageway once your folks do the same.”

All eyes instantly turned to Langthon. He licked his lips then sighed.

“Fine,” Langthon said. “Keep them. But any moves toward those blades and this room will fall on you like a Vape storm.”

“When have you seen a Vape storm?” Derrick asked. “Because I’ve seen more than my share on the planet. Have you even left this deck?”

Langthon moved quickly and was in Derrick’s face before the guards could even twitch.

“I’ve been off this deck plenty, you spoiled royal brat,” Langthon snarled. “I led the slaughter of two hundred of your men in Sector Gwalter. They thought they could hem us in on Lower Deck Forty-Seven. They thought wrong.”

The mess hall let out a loud cheer then went quiet. Derrick looked once more at the faces that filled the hall and saw nothing but pure rage. And bloodlust. He had to wonder what in Helios his brother was thinking in agreeing to Steward Stolt’s request and sending him down here with only his assistant and a small band of guards. They would all be ripped apart in seconds if it went sour.

“No offense meant, Langthon,” Derrick said and gave a slight bow.

“Hey, Langthon!” someone shouted. “You just got a royal curtsey! Ain’t you something special now?”

“Shut up!” Langthon yelled then nodded to Derrick. “Follow me.”

The man led them to the far right corner of the mess hall where Langley was seated; busy eating a plate of porridge that looked like it had congealed several days before. He was the only one seated at his table, but the surrounding tables were filled with men, their hands gripping the hilts of their heavy blades.

“Minor,” Langley smiled as Derrick walked up to him. “I am sorry you had to make the trip.”

“What do you mean? Four hours in a metal box is exactly how I like to spend my day,” Derrick chuckled.

“I am sure it is,” Langley laughed then looked over at the cart of boxes. “Your meeting of stewards is more than a little paranoid, don’t you think? Requiring my personal signature on each copy of the accord? Do they plan on signing each one as well?”

“They have,” Derrick said. “It took forever. The signatures towards the end of the day ended up being nothing but drunken scrawls since more than a few barrels of gelberry wine were consumed.” Derrick rubbed at his temples. “I may have participated in that, as well. So the sooner we can get done the sooner I can look forward to another four hour ride in a lift.”

Langley pointed to an empty space by the far wall then looked at Langthon.

“Set the boxes there,” Langley ordered. “Then clear this line of tables. Set out all the copies and I’ll go down the line, one by one, and sign them. It’ll be faster if we do this assembly line style.”

“Yes, sir,” Langthon nodded.

“Langthon and Langley?” Derrick asked. “Any relation?”

“No more than someone named Teirmont and someone named Peirpont,” Langley said.

“Point taken,” Derrick replied.

“Good,” Langley said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Derrick grinned. “Dormin? Go set the boxes over there and oversee the laying out of the copies.”

“Yes, my lord,” Dormin bowed and pushed the cart towards the wall.

“May I sit?” Derrick asked, gesturing towards the empty bench across from Langley.

“If you must,” Langley said.

“You’d rather I stand right here and hover over you?” Derrick glared.

“I’d rather you weren’t here at all,” Langley said as he looked over at Dormin as the assistant began to unpack the top boxes. “Your guards aren’t going to help? It will take your man forever to get all of those out of the boxes.”

“Then maybe have some of your men help,” Derrick said as he took a seat across the table. “Neither of us want to deal with this so how about a little less attitude and a little more cooperation?”

“I have no desire to cooperate with royals,” Langley said. “But the sight of you is ruining my appetite. The sooner you are gone the sooner I can eat in peace.”

He shoved his bowl of porridge away and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. He studied Derrick for a minute then looked over at the table of lowdeckers closest to Dormin and the cart.

“Micho? Treal? Morgie? Help the old guy out,” Langley ordered. “Now.”

The three men looked at each other, glared at Langley, then glared even harder at Derrick before they stood up and started to help.

“What are you eating?” Derrick asked as he reached across and took the bowl into his hand. He sniffed at it and frowned. “Smells off.”

“Fermented wheat berry porridge with myco-oil swirled in,” Langley replied. “It doesn’t taste as good as it sounds.”

“It sounds disgusting,” Derrick said. “No shaow bacon or cutlets? Grendt eggs?”

“This is the lower decks, Teirmont,” Langley responded. “I haven’t seen shaow bacon since I was a little kid and my father took me up to the surface for one of Henry III’s random feasts.”

“Right,” Derrick laughed. “He would throw one anytime one of his architectural projects was completed. Sometimes me and Alexis would just sleep in the great hall between feasts. We’d wake up and grab a plate of something, steal some wine, then pass out in the corner again until the next one.” The minor looked about at the bowls of mush that everyone was eating. “A far cry from this subsistence, I guess. I can almost see why you rebelled.”

“Almost?” Langley asked. “What else do you need to see? The lack of physicians? The eight person families crammed into a closet? The missing limbs from rotational drive engineers because their safety harnesses haven’t been updated since the last century?”

“Alright, alright, you can stop,” Derrick sighed. “I’ve heard it all before. Trust me when I say that my brother understands all of this and truly wants to help.”

“And you?”

“Me? Honestly?” Derrick mused. “I could give two shits. I’ve lived under the shadow of others my whole life. I let them make the hard choices and just worry about staying out of the way. I do as I am told and don’t rock the boat.”

“So you live as a coward,” Langley stated.

“I live,” Derrick replied. “Not always the easiest thing for a royal to do.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I used to set a timer to wake me up every fifteen minutes. That way no one could sneak into my room and kill me in my sleep.”

“That’s pretty paranoid,” Langley said. “How do you sleep now?”

“Oh, I sleep fine now,” Derrick said. “That was what I did when I was eight. That was the year Alexis came down with the weeping sickness and almost died. My sister told me if he died I would be next in line for the crown which meant there would be plenty of people wanting me dead.”

“Nice sister,” Langley chuckled.

“She’s gotten better,” Derrick smiled. “Now she scares my brother’s kids instead.”

“You have no children of your own?” Langley asked.

“No,” Derrick said, shaking his head. “Never married.”

“Marriage isn’t how children are made,” Langley winked. “I should know. I have three by my wife and probably more than a couple others running around the lower decks wondering who their daddy is.”

“Some royals have a stable of bastards,” Derrick shrugged. “I’ve always been careful.”

“Why? Knock up a whore and so what?”

“Because if anyone found out who sired the bastard then that child would be dead in an instant,” Derrick replied. “You forget I hear the secrets of other stations. Master Rutge of Station Klaerv sent three of his bastards down to Klaerv Prime to hide. Within the month they were returned to him, piece by piece, until he had their whole bodies. Then someone sent him an instruction pamphlet on how to sew them back together.”

Langley stared at Derrick for a good long while before he shook his head.

“That story makes my case for why the monarchy should be abolished,” Langley said. “And to think lowdeckers are considered the barbarians of this station.”

“Please,” Derrick laughed. “You understand brutality and violence, but we royals understand that and cruelty. You haven’t met evil until you’ve looked royal ambition in the eye.”

“What do you call that?” Langley asked, pointing at the stacks of paper being set on the table. “Looks like royal ambition to me.”

“Hardly,” Derrick responded. “My brother wanted nothing to do with this. It was all the meeting of the stewards’ idea.”

“I am willing to bet there was one steward in particular that wished for this to happen,” Langley smiled.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Langley shrugged. “It’s business better left unsa—”

His voice was lost in the massive explosion that roared towards them in a split second. Langley and Derrick were both thrown from their seats and sent flying against the wall. Smoke filled the mess hall and body parts rained down on those still left alive. Bits of paper floated lazily to the ground.

Derrick struggled to open his eyes and blinked several times before he could focus on the carnage.

The dead were everywhere. Legs, arms, and torsos covered every inch of space. Small fires burned here and there and Derrick realized most were fueled by human remains. Of the several dozen lowdeckers that had been present, only a third seemed able enough to stagger about and try desperately to help their fallen friends.

Derrick tried to look for Dormin, or any of the royal guards, but the space where they had been, where the hand cart had been, was nothing but a smoking crater and massive hole in the wall. No one within a thirty foot radius could have survived the blast. Derrick quickly realized he was alone.

That wasn’t his only realization: he could see all the panicked activity, but he couldn’t hear any of it. He reached up and snapped his fingers by his ears, but there was nothing but a high-pitched ringing and the low thump-thump of his pulse. He wiped at the skin just below his ears and his fingers came away bloody.

But his attention was quickly diverted from his new disability as hands grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. All were suddenly screaming at him, fingers jabbing Derrick in the chest. Bloody spittle flew onto Derrick’s face, but he didn’t care. All he had eyes for was the heavy blade one of Langley’s men was pulling free from its scabbard.

“Hey. Stop!” Derrick shouted. “I didn’t do this!”

His words were a far off buzz in his head. The minor started to thrash and fight against the men that held him, but a couple quick shots to his kidneys stopped that. He felt as if his back was on fire and he wondered what other injuries he had.

The men dragged him over to an overturned table and forced his neck against the edge. Derrick continued to fight, despite the constant battering he took, but his strength gave out quickly as he felt wetness run down the backs of his legs. He was bleeding and badly, he knew it.

Not that it mattered as a man stepped in front of him and showed him the razor sharp blade of impossible size. Then the blade was lost from sight as it was raised over his neck.

Derrick’s last thoughts were how in Helios’s name could anyone even lift a blade like that.

Then it was over.

* * *

The lift came to a stop and the guards turned to open the doors.

“Welcome back, your highn—” one of the guards said then stopped, his jaw dropping.

The other guard shoved him out of the way, stared at what was inside the lift, then turned and vomited.

Inside were piles of papers, most scorched and charred by fire, with each pile topped by a bloody body part or two. A couple of fingers on that pile, an ear on the other; a foot over there, a shoulder on that one.

In the middle of the grotesque scene was an almost pristine pile of paper. And on top of that was the severed head of Derrick Teirmont, Minor of Station Aelon.

Chapter Five

The blade cut so cleanly that the man’s eyes widened with surprise and confusion in their last dying light after his head was severed from his body. It tumbled through the air and sent a spray of blood across the attacker’s face. The man shoved the headless body aside, ignoring the geyser of blood that tried to drown him in one last ditch effort of violence.

“Press on!” Langley shouted, not bothering to wipe any of the red liquid from his eyes as he pushed forward, urging his men on, keeping them from retreating to the safety of the lift that led to the lower decks. “Take it to them!”

The lowdeckers snarled with rage and fought with a fury that only the ruthlessly oppressed could know. Nothing to lose and everything to gain was the fuel that stoked the flames of hatred and revenge. They tore their way through the royal guards with their heavy blades, sending men to death like a Vape wind parting wild scrim grass on a prime.

They were a force of nature that was bottled inside a station made by men. A trapped cyclone of strained muscles and sheer willpower, any that stood in their way were cut down without regard or mercy. The passageway was flooded with blood and offal. Lowdeckers stood ankle deep in the bodily fluids of the royal guards and regiments sent by the stewards to keep the wild ones from ascending any farther than the lower decks.

“I see you, Klemshir!” Langley roared as he spied the steward at the far end of the passageway holding the lift to the middle decks with a contingent of his men. “Run, if you like! But know you die if you stay!”

“End this, Langley!” Klemshir shouted back. “Go back to your world below and stop this idiocy! You can’t win against the crown or the meeting of stewards! Save yourself!”

Langley hacked at a soldier that tried to spear him in the belly. He took the soldier’s hands, as well as half the spear, with one swipe of his blade. The man collapsed to the ground, his spurting stumps held before his face. Another swipe and the stumps became new stumps and the soldier’s head joined his body parts that lay about him.

Langley kicked the man to the floor and then fell back against the wall as a volley of flechettes ripped down the passageway. He turned to see three of his men double over and hit the ground, their thin breen armor no match for the power of the longsling projectiles. Another volley was fired and Langley barely had time to dive into the inches-thick gore and keep from being shredded by the metal rounds.

He lifted his face from the gore and looked towards Klemshir as a squad of longslingers poured from the lift and set themselves before the soldiers that held the way up. It took only a fraction of a second for them to get in place and begin firing once more.

Those of his men not fast enough to flatten themselves cried out as the flechette particle barbs split and split again, blossoming within their bodies over and over with every contact of flesh until the pieces were so minuscule they started to rip apart the very atoms the men were made of. Blood mist filled the air as men so muscled that their breen armor stretched to breaking were cut down by things smaller than gelberry pollen.

Langley saw what was happening and calculated how many men he had left versus how many longslingers kneeled in front of the soldiers that held the lift up. If it was his heavy blades against only the long blades and spears of the soldiers and guards then he would have pressed the attack; they had been that close.

But the longslingers hadn’t lost a single man in their ranks and Langley knew the day was over. He waited for the next volley of death to fly over him before he shoved himself to his feet and retreated down the passageway.

“Back below!” he shouted. “We have wounded them and they won’t soon forget it! We fight again another day!”

“Run, you lowdecker trash!” Steward Klemshir screeched. “Scum like you will never leave the lower decks!”

“Neither shall you!” Langley yelled as he kicked a spear up into the air with his foot.

He caught the shaft, cocked his arm back, and threw it as hard as he could. The look on Klemshir’s face turned from smugness to fear. Then to pain. The life left him before his hands could even grip the spear that pierced his heart. His men gawked wide eyed, stunned that their steward’s polybreen armor couldn’t hold back a spear it was designed to repel. Langley laughed as the noble collapsed to the ground and the soldiers closed ranks around him.

“His soul will be damned with the rest of ours!” Langley shouted as he backed into the lift to below, his eyes watching the longslingers, ready for the next attack. “Helios will never let him ascend to the Surface again!”

With their leader slain, the soldiers’ resolve began to fail and Langley honestly considered one more attack. But the longslingers were beholden to no steward, having sworn fealty to the crown only, and their eyes narrowed, their fingers tightened, and another volley of flechettes exploded towards the retreating lowdeckers.

The lift doors closed just as the particle barbs reached the end of the passageway. The lowdeckers stared in wonder as the metal began to bubble inward, pocked by the ever-splitting flechettes. Langley looked about and realized that a fifth of his men hadn’t made it onto the lift. Their screams were cut short quickly as the particle barbs tore them up; then lost completely as the lift began to descend to the safety of the lower decks below.

“We need our own longslings,” one of Langley’s men said. “Then we wouldn’t have to run like lasses.”

“We will get them,” Langley sighed.

“That’s what you have said for a year now,” another man stated. “But where are they?”

Langley turned on the man, his face stone cold. The man was easily six inches taller than Langley, but he quickly withered under the shorter man’s cruel gaze.

“If any of you doubt my leadership then please bring it up with the others,” Langley said. “I will gladly walk away from this fight and let those more capable than myself take over.”

There was no response from the man, or any of the men, as Langley looked about the lift. He locked eyes with each and every one of them until they were all forced to turn away. They knew the rebellion was nothing without him. It was an unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Exactly,” Langley said. “I have gotten us this far and I will take us further until we all stand on the Surface of Station Aelon as equals amongst the stewards.”

There was no response and the lowdeckers stood in pained silence as the lift took them ever downward, back to the squalor they were so desperate to escape.

* * *

“Show me the weak points,” Alexis ordered as he stared at the vast schematics before him. The banquet table of the great hall was covered end to end by sheet after sheet of paper. The master’s eyes took in every inch, studying the various lifts, maintenance tunnels, and access ports that crisscrossed Station Aelon. “I know we have secured all sectors on the western hemisphere of Aelon, but what about the eastern side? Steward Veschy? How have you fared with your mission?”

“My sectors are defended, sire,” the squat, dark-complected man replied. Only a few years older than the master, Veschy had hair that was liberally streaked with grey. The same could be said of all the men that stood around the banquet table; the wages of war making them old before their times. “Ninn, Staben, and Lauchknit will hold against any attacks thanks to the squad of longslingers put in place.”

“Yes, I understand that your sectors are holding, but have you made any headway with penetrating the lower decks? I sent you those longslingers as an offensive force, not to defend your interests with!”

“My apologies, your highness,” Stolt said. “I gave the order for Steward Veschy to keep the longslingers back in order to conserve ammunition. Unfortunately, Gornish Wyerrn was struck ill and passed away last week. Production of the particle barb flechettes was halted due to unforeseen circumstances.”

“Unforeseen circumstances?” Alexis snapped. “This is war! Death is never unforeseen in war!”

“If I may, sire,” de Morlan said, in an uncharacteristic show of solidarity with Stolt. “The unforeseen circumstance is not the deck boss’s demise, but the fact that he moved the exact specifications for the particle barb flechettes just before said demise. Until his daughters can find the specs, production of the flechettes has been halted.”

Master Alexis looked at the two stewards in shock. He was used to bad news, having fought against the rebellion for over eight years, but the lack of ammunition for the longslings was almost too much to bear. The stewards’ soldiers, as well as the royal guard, were well trained, but every one of the nobility had learned the hard way what training did against the full might of the lowdeckers’ heavy blades.

Absolutely nothing.

“What do we have left?” Alexis asked as he took a seat, his body exhausted after days, weeks, months with little to no sleep. “Please tell me we have stockpiled the particle barbs.”

“To tell you that would be a far cry from the truth, sire,” Stolt said. “The royal armory reports we have enough to outfit a dozen squads and that is it.”

“A dozen squads?” Alexis barked. The sound was like a mix between a laugh and snarl, and most of the stewards took an involuntary step back from the table. Alexis looked about the great hall until he found Corbin standing at the far end of the table. “Can we hold the lifts with a dozen squads?”

“We can, sire,” Corbin said.

“I beg your pardon? Impossible!” Stolt blurted then cleared his throat. “I mean, it is not mathematically possible to cover all the sectors’ lifts with a mere dozen squads.”

“How fast we have become dependent on tiny pieces of metal,” Alexis groaned. “As the Ledger says, ‘From the highest mountains to the tiniest of molecules, Helios’s will rules all.’ We have forgotten to pay respect to those tiniest of molecules and now instead we pay a price.”

“I’m not sure Helios’s will is in play here, sire,” de Morlan responded. “More like human folly.”

“The folly would be to underestimate my men,” Corbin said. “They have learned over the years the best strategical use of the longslingers. While the stewards worry about a proper show of force to prove their manhood, my methods are much more subtle.”

“I don’t believe that tone is called for,” Stolt said. “You forget your place.”

“He knows exactly where his place is,” Alexis responded. “Advising me on matters of warfare that none of you seem to understand.”

“Your highness,” Corbin said. “The weakness of the rebellion has always been the lifts. They need them in order move out of the lower decks to attack us. Their weakness is ours as well.”

“Are you suggesting the master is equal to a lowdecker?” Stolt challenged. “Saying as much could be considered a capital offense.”

“Do you believe that is what I am saying, your highness?” Corbin asked.

“Of course not,” Alexis snapped. “Continue.”

“We shut down the lifts except one,” Corbin replied. “We bottleneck the entire station. One way down, one way up.”

“That’s insanity!” Stolt shouted. “The passengers will revolt outright!”

“Not if we attack the lower decks before they can really protest,” Corbin said. “That one and only working lift becomes ours. We start sending down regiment after regiment onto the middle decks, preparing them for a faster descent and assault once we begin. The lift will be tied up for days as we get men in place. The passengers will complain, yes, but they will also be wary to join the lowdeckers once they see the show of force we place on their decks.”

“But what’s to stop the lowdeckers from retreating deeper into their territory?” de Morlan asked. “We’ve tried something similar and they just get lost in that maze they call home.”

“Because we cut off their avenue of retreat,” Corbin answered. “With the longslingers. Before shutting down all the other lifts, we get them as close to the lower decks as possible without being detected. They then use the maintenance tunnels and access ports to get in position.”

“You have lost your mind,” Stolt said. “If the longslingers are found they’ll be cut to pieces.”

“Not in the access ports, or even the maintenance tunnels,” Corbin smiled. “There isn’t enough room for the lowdeckers to use their heavy blades. They’d barley get them out of their scabbards, let alone be able to swing with any lethality. They’ll be banging elbows and raking knuckles while the longslingers pick them off, one by one.”

Stolt started to respond then closed his mouth. He looked at de Morlan for help, but the older steward just shook his head.

“And to keep them from holding out too long,” Corbin added, his eyes focused on Stolt. “You can make sure your man Diggory doesn’t come to Langley’s rescue. Without the backup he needs, Langley will be quickly cut off from the rest of the lower decks. We’ll have him surrounded by longslingers while the main force runs him down from the front.”

Stolt looked shocked. His mouth opened several times to speak, but only a small squeaking came out.

“What does he mean by ‘your man’?” de Morlan asked Stolt.

“The steward has been cultivating a relationship with Moses Diggory, one of the major crew bosses down there,” Corbin said. “He’s considered to be Langley’s successor if the man ever falls. Steward Stolt has made sure that Diggory is bought and paid for. I can’t say exactly what the steward’s end goal was, but I’m sure it was in line with the crown’s needs.”

“I’m sure it was,” de Morlan said as he glared at Stolt then looked at the master. “Your highness? How should this be handled?”

“We use Corbin’s plan,” Alexis said.

“No, sire. I meant how should—”

“I know what you meant, Alasdair,” Alexis responded. “What I’m saying is we use Corbin’s plan, including the suggestion that Stolt here reach out to his turncoat and make the man an offer he cannot refuse.”

Stolt swallowed hard, but composed himself quickly. “And what offer is that, sire?”

“That Diggory will become the next leader of the lower decks once Langley is in custody,” Alexis smiled. “Making sure the lowdeckers are beholden to me and the crown as before, of course.”

“Of course,” Stolt nodded. “I’ll dispatch a messenger immediately.”

“I believe it would be safer if the steward took the message to Diggory directly,” Corbin said. “I can vouch for the men in this hall, but I cannot vouch for any of Steward Stolt’s messengers. I would hate for the entire operation to be jeopardized by the loose lips of a careless servant.”

“Good suggestion,” Alexis nodded then looked to Stolt. “Away this instant. Meet with Diggory and set everything up. Report back to me tonight.”

“I may not be able to meet with the man tonight,” Stolt said. “Communicating with the lower decks is troublesome, to say the least.”

“I’m sure you’ll work it out,” Alexis said in a tone that told Stolt he had no choice in the matter. “Now go.”

“Yes, sire,” Stolt said and bowed low. He glanced over at Corbin and turned his lips up in a grimace. “I could certainly use an escort as my most capable guards are in the service of your highness at this moment.”

“Very well,” Alexis said. “Corbin? See to it that Steward Stolt gets to his meeting. I’ll feel better with you there anyway.”

Corbin glared at the steward, but nodded in agreement. “Yes, your highness, a wise decision.”

* * *

“You think your influence is greater than mine, guard?” Stolt snarled as the lift descended quickly. “You think you can work your will upon the Master of Station Aelon? A pissant like you? What’s your aim, Corbin? Looking for a sector warden position?” The steward leaned in close, his hot breath a menacing stench upon Corbin’s cheek. “A stewardship? Is that what you want?”

“I want nothing more than the safety of the master and Station Aelon, my lord,” Corbin said with a bow.

Stolt looked over at the lift operator and sneered. “A fine answer while ears are listening. But when we are alone, I will get the truth from you.”

Corbin turned and faced the steward, his features calm, his eyes clear.

“I would like that very much...my lord.”

The lift ground to a halt and the doors slid open, showing they were expected. Corbin had both of his blades out and ready as men moved from the deck and into the lift, their heavy blades making Corbin’s look insignificant and weak.

Yet not one of the lowdeckers underestimated the head guard. They knew him by reputation and experience. Even against five lowdeckers armed with blades that weighed almost as much as a small child, Corbin was hardly outmatched.

Diggory was the last man to enter the lift. The doors slid shut and the operator started taking them back towards the surface. Diggory turned slowly and faced the man.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“No, sir,” the operator answered. “I’ve only had the job for a week now.”

“What happened to your predecessor?” Diggory inquired as he took a step closer to the man.

“He was killed, sir,” the operator replied. “The Battle of Veber Listd. Took one of those particle barbs to the throat. Tore his head clear off.”

“Like this?” Diggory asked and slashed out with his short blade. The operator’s head fell to the floor, his body spurting blood high into the air before it too collapsed. Diggory gave it a nudge with his foot then looked at Stolt. “We can’t afford loose ends anymore, can we?”

“Tell your men to put away their blades,” Corbin said as he ignored the bloody corpse and kept his focus on Diggory. “Nonnegotiable.”

“Nonnegotiable?” Diggory laughed. “Everything is negotiable, Mr. Breach. Or do I call you Head of the Royal Guard? Do you even have an official title?”

“Don’t need one,” Corbin replied. “You know who I am and that’s all that matters.”

“I suppose so,” Diggory agreed. “I suppose so.” He looked at Stolt and grinned. “I hear you have an offer for me?”

“I do,” Stolt nodded. “Direct from the master himself.”

“Oooh-la-la!” Diggory laughed and his men laughed with them. He waved at them and they sheathed their swords. “What is this offer direct from the master himself?”

“The lower decks,” Stolt said. “They will be yours to run, as if you were a steward, sector warden, and deck boss rolled into one. The lower decks will be officially their own region and you get to be in charge. Under control of the master, of course.”

One of Diggory’s men snorted and got a slap to the face for it.

“We do not laugh at our friends, do we?” Diggory growled.

“No, sir,” the man replied. “My apologies.”

“Under the control of the master?” Diggory asked, focusing on Stolt once more. “What does Master Alexis have in mind with this control? Will I be a puppet? Or may I rule my people as they should be ruled?”

“You will rule as you see fit,” Stolt responded. “As long as it is not at odds with the master’s wishes.”

“Which just circles me back around to another question,” Diggory chuckled. “What are those wishes?”

“No more interruptions of the status quo,” Stolt said. “Servants return to their jobs, lowdeckers make sure the rotational drive is maintained and running, no more talks of revolt or rebellion. The station returns to how it was, just with a new official region.”

“I’ll be your equal,” Diggory stated. His eyes locked with Stolt’s, begging for the man to challenge him on the point.

“Yes, precisely,” Corbin spoke up. “But your seat will be part of the meeting of passengers, not the meeting of stewards.”

“That’s not equal,” Diggory said as he turned to Corbin. “The meeting of passengers is a joke.”

“No, it is not,” Corbin responded. “Not once you are in charge of it.”

“In charge of the meeting?” Diggory asked, puzzled and intrigued. “How is that possible?”

“Every group has its hierarchy or the assembly dissolves into chaos. Just as there is a hierarchy in the meeting of stewards, there will be with the passengers. You’ll be at the top of that hierarchy.”

“Is this so?” Diggory asked Stolt.

“What? Yes...yes, of course,” Stolt nodded. “The only way to maintain control with the passengers is to make sure there is clear leadership. You will be that leader.”

“Appointed by the master,” Diggory said.

“Appointed by the master,” Stolt agreed, smiling. “What say you?”

“I say I’d like a day or two to think about it,” Diggory replied.

“You have until the lift reaches the next deck,” Corbin responded.

All of the lowdeckers hissed then looked to Diggory.

“You are so sure of yourself,” Diggory said. “I think we both know what happens to men that are so sure of themselves.”

“They win,” Corbin replied. “The lift stops in ten minutes. I hope you have an answer by then.”

“No need to wait,” Diggory said as he reached out and pulled the brake.

The sound of screeching metal and groaning cables made them all wince. The lift shuddered for a moment then stilled. Diggory cranked the throttle into reverse and the lift started to descend.

“I’ll take the master’s deal,” Diggory said.

“Don’t you want to know what Master Alexis wants in return?” Stolt asked.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Diggory said, shaking his head. “I know what the master wants from me. Betrayal.”

“If you choose to call it that,” Stolt nodded.

“I call it what it is,” Diggory growled. “I’m a lowdecker and we say things as plainly as they are. We don’t hide from the dirt and the grime like you surfacers. If it doesn’t shine already, I sure as shit ain’t going to waste my precious spit polishing it up.”

“Very well then,” Stolt said. “You get your men ready. Once we have everything in place, you will be notified. At the very least you’ll be asked to just do nothing. At the most you will need to take up arms against Langley. Can you be counted on for that?”

“I can,” Diggory nodded.

“Good.”

“Good.”

They waited in silence as the lift continued downward, the smell of sweat, fear, and distrust thick in the small space.

* * *

The swing was wild and raw, but the heavy blade didn’t care, it did its job and took the man’s head clean off. A fountain of blood gushed against the rusted metal of the passageway’s wall as the headless body fell against it. The heavy blade was brought up again in a rough arc that was driven by desperation and panic.

“Lucas! We must retreat!” a man yelled as he watched as Langley removed the right arm from a soldier then looped the blade above the screaming man and come down to rip his torso in half. “Lucas!”

Langley looked over his shoulder to see that he was a good thirty yards ahead of his forces. He was the only one making a push for the lift; the rest of the lowdeckers were massed down the passageway, panic filling their eyes.

“Come on, you cowards!” Langley roared, parrying a thrust from a royal soldier then using the man’s momentum against him to spin him about into the wall. Langley slammed the hilt of his heavy blade against the back of the man’s head, crushing his skull and sending blood and brains spilling to the ground. “Now is our time!”

“Now is not your time.” Alexis grinned behind a mask of blood as he pushed past his men to face the enraged lowdecker. “Your time is done, Langley. Give up and the rest of your men will be spared. Continue fighting and I show no mercy to a single soul.”

“Mercy is not yours to give!” Langley spat as he gutted another soldier and shoved the wounded man towards Alexis. “You are not a god, Alexis. Just a man. Helios grants mercy, not men!”

“Today, I am as close to Helios as you will get,” Alexis snarled. “I would advise you to take my mercy as if it was given by the Dear Parent. You will not get a better offer, Langley.”

Langley began to walk backwards, his feet finding their own path between the dismembered bodies, severed limbs, crushed heads. The lowdecker’s eyes were filled with nothing but hatred and disgust for the smug monarch before him. He knew he couldn’t hold out long on his own, despite his skills with the heavy blade.

Alexis had the day.

“Take your wounded back to the surface,” Langley said. “Or wherever you take them. To the middle decks? To some convalescence home on a Surface estate? Is there a stewardess doing her duty and giving her house over as hospital? That must be nice.”

Langley walked past a lowdecker that still breathed, although most of his face was nothing but a tangle of flesh and bone. With a swift thrust of his heavy blade, Langley ended the man’s suffering.

“We have no such luxuries down here,” Langley said. “If you fall then you are done. Just like you will be one day, your highness.”

“I think not, Langley,” Alexis smiled. “At least not today.”

A cry of pain from behind him made Langley turn to look at his men. He was instantly surprised to see them moving quickly towards him. He was even more surprised when they started to turn around and face the other end of the passageway, not towards Alexis and his soldiers.

“What are you doing?” Langley shouted. “Face these surfacers and fight!”

“Longslingers!” one of the lowdeckers shouted just before half his head was turned to pulp by a particle barb.

Langley whirled back to face Alexis and belatedly realized why the master smiled so broadly.

How did the longslingers get so far down into the lower decks?

Langley knew the lifts being shutdown was a prelude to the attack that came so he sent men to guard every maintenance tunnel and access port. Every way in and out of the lower decks had been covered. Diggory’s forces had the entire place secured.

How did they get through?

Two possibilities flew through Langley’s mind as he rushed towards Alexis, his heavy blade raised high: Diggory fell or Diggory turned.

Langley highly doubted Diggory had fallen.

“Sire!” Corbin shouted and shoved Alexis out of the way just as Langley attacked.

Corbin brought his short blade and long blade up in a cross, blocking Langley’s heavy blade. The force of the blow nearly sent Corbin to his knees, but he held strong and shoved with all his might, knocking back the enraged lowdecker.

“Get him out of here!” Corbin ordered to the royal guard.

“I will not be removed from battle!” Alexis yelled. “We push the attack!”

Alexis moved forward, his blades already drawn and dripping with blood from his part in the fight. Corbin spun about and slashed madly at Langley’s belly, forcing the man to jump back again and again. Alexis used that opportunity to rally his men forward and attack the exposed backs of the lowdeckers that had turned to face the regiment of longslingers that pressed at them from behind.

“Hold your fire!” Alexis ordered as a particle barb zipped by his ear. “The master is in the battle!”

Many of the lowdeckers whipped their heads about at the announcement, their panic replaced by bloodlust and fury. None wanted to give up the opportunity to take down the master. Whether for good or evil, the man that killed Master Alexis the First would be sung about for centuries. Eternal glory was just a blade slash away.

A dozen men rushed at the monarch, their mouths open and throats vibrating with war cries that drew power from the most primal instincts within them. There was no coordination to the attack, just unfettered fury and rage.

The carnage within the passageway slowed to quarter time as Alexis prepared himself for the attack. He could hear his men behind him, ready to join the fight, but they were a few steps back. When the lowdeckers reached him, he would be on his own for the first few blows.

Alexis was more than happy for that opportunity. His blood was at full boil with Teirmont anger. He could feel his veins burn under his skin. He was nothing but fire and wrath, ready to crush all who had defied him for so, so long.

The first man to reach Alexis lost his intestines with a swipe of a short blade as Alexis dove into a roll and came up swinging. The lowdecker’s heavy blade met nothing but empty air. Alexis lurched to his feet, shouldering the disemboweled man back into his comrades.

Two lowdeckers fell as they became entangled in, and were tripped up by, their screaming brother’s entrails. Alexis placed a boot firmly on one of the men’s heads and crushed his skull like a shaow’s bladder. The other man’s throat was slit from ear to ear as Alexis’s long blade rushed past.

Three down before the royal guards even caught up.

The world around Alexis became a dark void filled with the glowing red heartbeat of rage that burned in his soul. Wrath was all he knew. He’d felt it all before on Aelon Prime when he fought against The Way’s Burdened. But then it had been a campaign driven by the holy desire to remove The Way’s clutches from the throats of the primes on the planet and the stations in orbit. It had been different.

As Alexis slashed and hacked, stabbed and thrust, his conscious mind let go to the Teirmont beast that always dwelled on the edge. He had heard his whole life about his grandfather and great grandfathers before, who had ripped entire decks apart with nothing but their bare hands. He’d believed the stories to be fancies his father told him to boost his ego and self-importance, something Henry III was well known for.

Alexis knew the stories were not fancies of a troubled imagination as his short blade was knocked from his grip and he instinctively grabbed the attacker by the crotch and tore with all his might. The man before him would have wailed in agony if his throat had not been torn open by Alexis’s teeth. The body fell to the ground, blood pouring from its neck and from between its legs, as Alexis stood there and roared.

It was a sound that stunned all who heard it. Lowdeckers and royal guards, all paused to gaze at the gore smeared monarch that held a pair of bloody testicles in one hand and pulled a hunk of flesh from his mouth with the other. The passageway was still for a split second that moved into an eternity until a battle cry from far down the passageway brought everyone out of their shock.

Alexis tossed the testicles aside, smirking at the loud splat they made against the wall, then fetched his blades from the viscera piled at his feet.

“We have been betrayed!” a lowdecker screamed just before his head was sent tumbling through the air by Diggory’s heavy blade.

“Such harsh words from a dead man,” Diggory snarled as he swung again, taking a man’s arm off at the shoulder.

Heavy blades met heavy blades as the two lowdecker factions collided. Alexis watched with predatory detachment as men that had once been friends, many even extended family, tore into each other with viscous abandon.

Two men pulled away from the fray and came at Alexis, but even their weighty metal couldn’t withstand the might of the man called Longshanks. Sparks flew as Alexis’s weapons collided with the heavy blades. He towered over the squat lowdeckers, his powerful arms coming down again and again, bashing at the men’s blades as if they were braids of scrim grass.

One of the men collapsed under the assault and Alexis pressed forward, sending his long blade through the man’s heart. The second man took that opportunity to lunge, not with his heavy blade, but with a short knife he pulled from his boot.

Alexis looked down at the handle that stuck out from his side and frowned in disbelief. He dropped his short blade, yanked the knife free and returned it to its owner, blade first through the man’s left eye. Without missing a beat, Alexis retrieved his short blade and looked for more men to kill. But the wound in his side wouldn’t let him take more than a step or two.

“His highness has been wounded!” a guard yelled as Alexis dropped to a knee, one hand clutching the wound that leaked blood at an alarming rate.

“I’m fine!” Alexis shouted. “Continue the fight!”

“Sire, we must get you back,” a guard said as he helped Alexis to his feet. “We have taken the day. There is no need for you to be here.”

Alexis shoved the man away, staggered against the wall, regained his balance, and pointed at the lowdeckers ripping each other apart.

“We do not know how the day goes until the last man has fallen!” Alexis yelled. “Continue on and kill the rebels! Helios knows they deserve every cut of the blade we give them!”

The guard looked to three others that stood in a ring of protection around the master. “Sire, I cannot leave—”

“You will do as I say!” Alexis roared and the guards stumbled away from his fury, their eyes going to the blades he still held. “I want nothing but pure victory!”

The guards nodded and bowed then reentered the fight. Alexis watched them dive in with renewed drive and smiled. Then frowned as the pain in his side nearly sent him to the ground again.

A lowdecker slipped through the ranks and came at him, but hesitated, a rare thing for lowdeckers, as he saw the animalistic look in Alexis’s eyes. That pause was the man’s undoing as Alexis collapsed to the ground, but also lashed out, taking the man’s legs off below the knees with one swipe of his long blade. The lowdecker’s screams were cut short as Alexis pounced on him and buried his short blade up under the man’s chin and into his brain.

A cry from behind him tore the master from his homicidal blindness, and Alexis whipped his head about to see Corbin being impaled upon Langley’s heavy blade.

“No!” Alexis shouted, bringing Langley’s attention from the stricken Head of the Royal Guard to the very man Corbin was sworn to protect.

“You,” Langley sneered as he pulled his blade from Corbin’s guts and shoved the man aside. “Now we end this.”

Alexis stood back up and hobbled forward to meet the leader of the impossible rebellion. That leader strode forward confidently; his body crisscrossed with cuts and gashes, but none of his wounds were nearly as bad as Alexis’s.

“Where is Helios’s support of the monarchy now?” Langley laughed, pointing his blade at Alexis. “Look at you. You’re just meat like the rest of us.”

“I’m royal meat,” Alexis replied, matching Langley’s laugh. “There is a difference, believe me.”

“There won’t be when you’re dead!” Langley shouted as he gripped his heavy blade with both hands and rushed towards the master.

He made it three steps before his right shoulder exploded into a mess of breen armor, shredded muscle, and spraying blood. Langley spun about and dropped, collapsing across a pile of corpses made up of both royal soldiers and lowdeckers.

Alexis glanced over his shoulder and saw a young woman standing there with a longsling to her shoulder. He nodded to her and she nodded back. Then her chest burst open as a heavy blade was thrust through her back. The lowdecker on the other end of the heavy blade smirked with malevolence then grunted in pain as he too was impaled upon a blade and cut down.

The master turned back to Langley, his concern for the rebel leader’s demise more pressing than his concern for the outcome of what was happening behind him.

But Langley was nowhere to be seen.

Alexis rushed forward, his wound ignored as he began to shove corpses aside, turning them over with his boot, desperate to find one that would be Langley. Yet none were. The man was gone, a ghost lost from the battle, a specter that had retreated to a more familiar haunt.

The master swore he would destroy every possible hiding place Langley could have gone. Then he staggered forward and collapsed next to Corbin, his arms taking the man into his lap.

“Corbin? Speak to me, man,” Alexis grunted. “Now is not your time. I swear to Helios you do not die today.”

Corbin opened his eyes and coughed blood from between his lips.

“I failed you, sire,” Corbin whispered. “You deserved more from me than my blood upon your trousers.”

“You could never fail me, Corbin,” Alexis said. “You have been nothing but loyal and trustworthy since I have known you. And you will remain so for the rest of your long life, I am certain.”

Corbin smiled weakly and coughed. “You flatter me, your highness, but I am not long for this world. Let me die here and get yourself to safety. The battle is not done, sire. You are still in danger.”

“No, no,” Alexis said as he leaned back against the wall, his own warm blood mixing with Corbin’s as it leaked from his wound. “I think I will stay and rest with you, if you don’t mind. Just a short rest. I’m suddenly very tired.”

He looked down and saw Corbin’s eyes were closed. He pressed a palm to the man’s nostrils and smiled as he felt the faint breath that came out. Alexis leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes as well, thinking it really was a splendid idea to just rest, if at least for a minute or two, before getting back into the fight.

Chapter Six

“So much blood, my mistress,” the nurse cried, huge, fat tears tumbling down her cheeks like liquid boulders. “It was everywhere...there was nothing the physician could do for him.”

Eliza fell back into the chair, her hands clutched to her breast, stunned by the news.

“This can’t be,” she whispered. “He was still so young. He had so much of life to look forward to. Helios must be playing a cruel joke to take my beloved from me like this.”

“I am so sorry, my mistress,” the nurse sobbed. “We tried everything, but this strain of the weeping sickness is the worst seen in four generations. It’s tearing the station apart.”

“Take me to him,” Eliza said as she tried to stand. Stewardess de Morlan hurried over and helped the mistress to her feet. Eliza looked at her like she’d had no idea the woman had been close at hand for the past five days straight. “Oh, Lesha, there you are. Will you come with me as I say goodbye to my boy?”

“I will, your highness,” Lehsa said, her voice quavering with grief of her own. “Then I am afraid I must leave the court. I do not want to, but Alasdair’s remains have been released from quarantine and arrangements must be made for his internment.”

“Alasdair?” Eliza asked. “What has happened to your husband? Was he stricken as well?”

“Yes, your highness,” Lesha replied. “He passed just before your Bora was taken.”

“Oh...yes...that’s right,” Eliza sighed. “I’m sorry, Lesha. Do not bother with me. I can handle this on my own. Go to your estate and put your man with his ancestors.”

“I will, your highness,” Lesha responded. “Once I have done this task with you. I could not live with myself if I walked away. Alasdair is with Helios now. All that waits for me at the manor is an empty shell of the man I loved.”

“We are all empty shells now,” Eliza nodded. “Empty like the husks of dead honey wasp hives.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Lesha said as she brushed a stray hair away from Eliza’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “Alasdair and I lived a long, happy life. I have no regrets. You still have the rest of your children. Go to them, love them, hold them tight.”

“Bora is gone,” Eliza whispered. “My sweet girl. Helios took her and now the Dear Parent has taken my Thomas. Will Haley and James be next? Then my Esther and my Alexis? When does Helios’s thirst for souls stop?”

“This is not Helios, your highness,” Lesha replied. “This is just a disease. We have seen the weeping sickness before, we will see it again. It is a sad side effect of living in a station. Everything recycled, including illness. One day the physicians will know the cause.”

“The physicians know nothing!” Eliza roared, slapping at Lesha as she shoved away from her. “They just let it happen! They should be ejected into space, every last one of them!”

A slight cough was heard from the doorway and Eliza turned to it, her eyes nothing but roiling madness and pain.

“Your highness,” a man said, dressed in the robes of medicine. “I do not mean to interrupt.”

“Perhaps now is not a good time,” Lesha said, hurrying over to the physician. “Could you come back later when her highness is in a better state?”

“No, I am fine,” Eliza insisted. “Tell me what it is you have come to say, physician. More death? More agony for me?”

“I am sorry, your highness…” the physician responded. “But...yes. The young minor, James, has been taken ill. It is early, and we may be able to stop the progress of the disease in him yet, but it is confirmed he has the weeping sickness.”

Eliza looked at the physician then to Lesha. The mistress’s face went whiter than it had been, turning almost translucent. A slight twitch at the corner of her mouth began then increased and soon her face was nothing but contractions. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her whole body started to spasm. She was on the floor in the blink of an eye and Lesha rushed to her.

“Your highness!” she cried. “Eliza! Eliza!”

The physician rushed to her as well and gently, but firmly, pushed Lesha out of the way. He touched the back of his hand to Eliza’s forehead then checked the pulse in her wrist while probing the glands under her chin.

“It has gotten to her as well,” the physician said. “I do not want to be the one to do this, but we must quarantine the entire royal quarters. These floors of Castle Quent are to be sealed at once.”

“I’ll alert the master,” Lesha said as she got up. “He’ll want to be with his family.”

“You will do no such thing,” the physician ordered. “This floor will be closed off then the master will be told. His health is of the utmost importance. We cannot risk him falling ill because of sentiment.”

Lesha’s palm struck the physician’s face across the cheek, leaving a red mark that equaled the sunsets on Aelon Prime. The man stood up, shocked and stared down at the stewardess.

“My lady,” he said. “I do not think—”

“Shut your mouth,” Lesha snapped. “And never call the love of a family ‘sentiment.’ Do you understand me? You physicians may be trained as cold, calculating clinicians, but the rest of us are not. Know your place, man, or find yourself stripped of that robe and assigned to the Vape mines on the planet. And not as a physician, but as a miner!”

“Yes, my lady, I apologize,” the physician bowed. “I forgot myself there.” He looked up and his eyes were fearful, but still determined. “This does not change the fact that the floor must be sealed off from the rest of the castle. As cold and calculating as that must sound, it is for the safety of the others at court as well as the master. This you must understand.”

“I do,” Lesha replied. “So go give the order. I will get word to the master once the job has been finished.”

“Thank you, my lady,” the physician nodded as he slowly backed out of the room. “I am truly sorry.”

“I do not doubt that,” Lesha said as a nurse hurried into the room and helped her get Eliza up and into the bed she shared with the master. “Just remember what I said and perhaps pass it on to your colleagues. Now is the time for discretion, not naked truths.”

“Yes, my lady.” The physician bowed just before leaving.

Lesha tucked the heavy breen comforter up to Eliza’s chin and gently stroked her hair.

“Sleep, your highness,” Lesha said. “I’ll watch over your little ones.”

Eliza opened her eyes and Lesha was shocked to already see the whites had turned blood red.

“Bring me my babies, Delihla,” Eliza said. “Let me hold their tiny bodies in my arms.”

Her eyes closed once more and Lesha sighed.

“Who is Delihla?” the nurse asked.

“It was the name of the nurse that accompanied her from Station Ploerv when she and Alexis were first wed,” Lesha frowned. “She died shortly after from a tragic lift accident. The mistress was to be with her, and the others that perished, but she had missed the lift because she and Alexis were, well, indisposed. Those two were so in love as teens, it was almost laughable to watch.”

“Are they not in love still?” the nurse asked then blushed. “Oh, I am sorry, my lady. That was rude of me to ask.”

“They are still in love,” Lesha said. “Deeply. I fear for Alexis’s stability when he is given the news of this.”

* * *

He rolled the plush leaves of the willow bush between his fingers as the servant stood there, legs shaking, eyes averted downward. Alexis didn’t say one word, just locked his eyes onto the young man. Seconds went by then minutes and unfortunately for the servant, a large stain began to spread across his crotch. He let out a quiet whimper, but didn’t move from his place in front of the master.

“Sire,” Stolt said as he leaned close to Alexis’s ear. “Can the poor boy be dismissed? I’m afraid he’s had an accident while trembling before us.”

“An accident…” Alexis mused. “Yes, I can see that. Do I strike so much fear in my subjects that they wet themselves when bringing me bad news?”

“It appears so, your highness,” Stolt said. “These are terrifying times and those with weaker constitutions than the royalty and nobility have reverted to animalistic behavior.” The steward glared at the still trembling young man. “Like shaows or grendts waiting for slaughter.”

“My...my...my...apolo...apologies,” the servant stammered. “I...was...I…”

“Begone,” Alexis said finally. “From my sight and from the castle. Return to your home and be with your family. The Final Feast is upon us and we now wait for Helios to devour the rest of the System.”

The servant’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“Just go,” Stolt said. “Be grateful you get to return to your loved ones.”

The servant turned and sprinted from the two men, hurrying from the royal gardens as fast as his urine slick legs would take him.

Stolt looked up at the artificial clouds contained within the station’s atmospheric shield. He’d always wondered what real clouds had looked like down on Helios before the Cataclysm changed the planet forever. His grandfather told him stories that had been passed down from generation to generation over the millennia about great puffy formations in the sky that looked like breen boles. Stolt wondered if the condensed moisture above him looked anything like those clouds from ancient times.

“I would like to see them,” Alexis said. “I would like to talk to them.”

He pressed his hand to his side and sighed. The wound he had been given during battle had split his body in the exact same spot as the assassination attempt so many years earlier. He had laughed about it causing not just “insult to injury, but injury to injury” and the court had found it very funny. But the jest was a rouse to ward off any suspicion of the true damage it had caused. The physicians had said he may never live without pain again; such was the extent of the wound.

Alexis turned to his now closest advisor. “Cousin? How do I see them? How do I speak with them?”

“We can connect you with them through the audio communication system,” Stolt said. “I am unsure how to make that happen since the system is designed to work in the shuttles and environmental suits only, but I am sure a tech can make it work. As for seeing them…?”

“Video?” Alexis asked. “Can that be done?”

“It may be possible,” Stolt said. “But the station’s internal system is ancient and hasn’t been used since your fourteenth great grandfather, uh, what was it called? Broadcast. Yes, since he broadcast his daughter’s wedding to the entire station.”

“Why did we not fix it sooner, cousin?” Alexis asked, his voice faded and far away. “A wonder of magic in small boxes. The world turned miniature and black and white.”

“It is an unreliable technology,” Stolt said. “A war of epic proportions was almost started because of the Grand Miscommunication between Thraen and Haelm. After that it was decided that we only communicate with other stations sparingly. Messengers and hard copies are more reliable within the station anyway.”

“I knew that,” Alexis snapped. “Do not school me like some child, Cousin! I am not some child!”

Alexis pressed harder against his belly and abruptly sat down in the neatly manicured scrim grass.

“Your highness!” Stolt exclaimed.

“Never mind about me,” Alexis snarled. “Go see to it that I can talk to my family. Do that now, Stolt. A moment’s hesitation may be too late.”

“Yes, sire.” Stolt bowed as he backed away. “I will fetch you when the preparations are complete.”

Alexis gave him a weak smile and waved his hand, dismissing the steward.

Stolt hurried from the garden, a sly smile on his face.

* * *

The small screen in front of Alexis flickered madly, static lines shooting across Esther’s grainy face.

“I haven’t been allowed to leave this room for days, Father,” Esther said, her eyes unsure of where to look. She kept flitting between staring directly into the camera or looking down at the screen that was provided to her as well. “They’ve given me Alexis to care for, but other than that I haven’t seen another soul. Except for the tech that came in to set this contraption up, my door hasn’t opened since Mother took ill and they rushed me and the baby here.”

“They are feeding you, yes?” Alexis asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The poor video quality gave him a migraine and he struggled to focus on the flickering light. “I know proper food stores have been sent up to the royal floors. They have been ordered to make sure you want for nothing.”

“They slide in food and drink through a hatch at the bottom of the door,” Esther replied. She looked about the small room she was in. “What was this place? A jail cell? Where am I?”

“The third spire. It was originally a jail for Master Gordon,” Alexis replied. “The one that went mad and killed his mistress and all but one of his heirs. He was held there until he passed.”

Esther stared directly into the camera, her eyes wide and angry.

“You have put me in a haunted room?” she snapped. “My baby brother and I need all of Helios’s help and you have them stick us in the Demon King’s cell?”

“Esther!” Alexis hissed. “We never use that word! Kings do not exist any longer. We are masters and mistresses, nothing more.”

“Same thing,” Esther replied.

“It is not the same—”

“It is so!” Esther shouted. “Changing the name does not change the reality! A master is a king, pure and simple! The name ‘master’ was only used after democracy failed. It was a compromise on the surface. Know who you are, Father. Master in name, but king in power.”

Alexis sighed and ran his hands down his face.

“I do not feel any power at this moment, my sweet girl,” he replied, all anger and frustration gone. “Helios is taking all of it, piece by piece.”

“Don’t say such things,” Esther responded. “The strength of the station is drawn from you. You cannot lose hope. If you do then all will and what will Station Aelon be then? Nothing.” She leaned in close to the camera and her face distorted into a round blob of flesh. “I believe in you, Father. You will make it through this.”

“Not if you die,” Alexis whispered. “To lose my first...I can’t…”

“You can,” Esther insisted. “You can and you will! Stay strong and know one day you will see your family again.”

There was a knock at the door and Esther turned.

“Who is it?” Alexis asked, hearing the faint voices that spoke to his daughter off screen. “Esther? What are they saying?”

The young woman tried to keep her composure, but the agony on her face betrayed her true emotions.

“Esther…?” Alexis asked as he heard his infant son start to wail. Esther stood up and left the picture as she fetched her baby brother. “Esther? Esther! What has happened?”

The minoress returned with baby Alexis in her arms and tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Mother…” was all she said.

Alexis pushed himself away from the small video screen and jumped to his feet. A deep rage filled his belly and he felt his wound burn with a hot agony that would have crushed any other man. But not Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First. No, that man embraced the agony as his new direction in life.

If pain was all Helios wanted for him as master then pain was what he would become.

“Father?” Esther cried out. “Father, I can’t see you. Are you there, Father?”

Baby Alexis started to whine then full on screech as he picked up on the grief and hurt his sister felt.

“Father!” Esther shouted. “Please don’t leave us, Father! Please!”

* * *

The council sat around the long table, their eyes darting to the portraits of past masters that lined the great hall’s walls, interspersed with the faded tapestries depicting triumphs of reigns long since past.

Then all eyes turned to Alexis as he sat at the end of the table, his face turned up to look at the murals painted onto the ceiling.

“We should have those restored,” he said. “Return some life to the art of former reigns. History is important.”

The council waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, Steward Stolt, seated directly to the master’s right, cleared his throat.

“I believe the first order of business should be in welcoming Steward Veschy to the council,” Stolt announced. “As well as Steward Alote. Their input is welcomed during these harsh and trying times.”

“I am grateful for the honor,” Steward Alote nodded. “And thankful the same was not extended to Steward Thierri, as his kind is not worthy to be in the presence of the master.”

“Petty, petty shaowshit,” Alexis said calmly. “So filled with it that I can see it leaking from your eyes like the blood that leaked from my late wife’s and children’s.”

The table froze, silent and wary as the master stood up from his chair, the pain of the effort plain on his face.

“Do you think now is when we should air our rivalries, Steward Alote?” Alexis asked. “While my grief is thick like Vape fog? Are your words supposed to be ones of comfort while I digest the deepest sorrow any father or husband could possibly endure? Those are the words you so carefully chose to speak?”

“I am sorry for any disrespect, your highness.” Alote bowed. “It was inconsiderate of me to—”

“Come here, Melco,” Alexis ordered. “Stand before me so I can see your true nature.”

The steward looked about the long table, but did not find a single ally ready to come to his defense. He slowly stood and made his way down the table to the master.

“Kneel,” Alexis ordered.

“Yes, sire.” Alote nodded as he took a knee.

“Do you feel superior now, Malco?” Alexis asked, almost spitting out the steward’s first name like it was a hair stuck on the end of his tongue. “Is this the honor you deserve, but Steward Thierri doesn’t?”

“Again, I am sorry for—”

“Answer my fucking question!” Alexis roared as his hand whipped down and gripped the steward by the throat. With a strength none of the council thought the master still possessed, Alexis lifted the man up to meet him eye to eye. “Do you feel honored now?”

There was a slight chuckle from the far corner of the great hall and Alexis looked over quickly then smiled as he saw who it was.

“Corbin, what shall I do?” Alexis asked the former head of the royal guard who sat bent over in a wheelchair. “Should I crush his windpipe so he only croaks like a swamp mucker? Or should I kill him outright?”

“Piss on him,” Corbin slurred, his voice thick with a several days old gelberry wine drunk. “Or have a good squat and shit in his mouth.” The man slapped about his lap for another flask of wine, but came up empty. “Where’s my fucking drink?”

“Where’s his fucking drink?” Alexis echoed, tossing Steward Alote aside with a flick of his wrist. He pointed at one of the servants that stood by the wall. “Get that man a drink! He is a station hero and will always, always, be taken care of!”

“My gratitudes, sire,” Corbin said and attempted to bow, but only managed to half fall out of his wheelchair. “Oh, Helios, I pissed my trousers.”

Alexis burst out laughing and slapped at his thighs as he sat back down and Alote hurried back to his seat. “Corbin! You are the only breath of fresh air in this hall! Never leave me, good sir! I treasure you almost as much as I treasure Aelon!”

“I’ll promise never to leave you, sire, if you could have one of these worthless fucks fetch me some dry trousers,” Corbin replied, hiccupping bile. “Otherwise I will be forced to leave in order to properly dress myself. A man should never be in the presence of greatness with urine in his trousers.”

“Never wiser words have been said,” Alexis agreed and snapped his fingers. Several servants hurried from the hall, eager to fetch new trousers and take their leave from the sad scene.

“Could I steer us back to station business, your highness?” Stolt asked. “We should speak of the crown’s succession…”

Alexis slowly turned his head to face the steward, his royal eyes drilling into the man.

“Alexis will take the crown once I am gone,” Alexis replied. “What is there to speak of?”

“Yes, of course, sire, but since the royal floor is still under quarantine…?” The steward left the question hanging, hoping the master would see the significance himself. When Alexis only stared, Stolt cleared his throat and continued. “If baby Alexis were to perish then there must be a second heir in place for when you pass.”

“My son will not perish,” Alexis said. “He is protected by the arms of his sister, the Minoress Esther Teirmont. She will not let her brother die.”

“Sire, but Minoress Esther has been stricken as well,” Stolt replied.

“As I was when I was young,” Alexis said. “Yet I survived. It can be done, steward.”

“Of course, sire. But my worry is that the physicians have tried to remove minor Alexis from their chambers, yet the minoress refuses to give them the baby. She will infect the poor lad. Then who shall take the crown?”

“Esther will,” Alexis said and there were more than a few involuntary gasps from the council. The master smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does that insult your sensibilities?”

“Your highness must know that is not possible,” Stolt said. “A woman cannot hold the crown because she must bear children. Who would rule the station while she is pregnant or nursing an infant? A mistress cannot go to war when she is in a delicate way. That just cannot happen.”

“Yes, yes, you are correct,” Alexis said. “Which is why we will not speak of succession ever again, am I clear? My son will live. He will rule once I am gone.”

“May that be many years from now,” Alote responded.

“Oh, shut up, man!” Alexis said. “Your sycophancy is worse than your idiotic ego.”

“Yes, sire,” Alote nodded.

“I said to shut up!” Alexis yelled as he picked up a glass and hurled it at the man.

It struck the steward square between the eyes and knocked him from the table. The council stood as one and peered over at the man.

“Did I kill him?” Alexis asked.

“I am fine, sire,” Alote replied as he gripped the table’s edge and clumsily pulled himself back into his chair. Blood poured from a gash on his forehead. “But I may ask to be excused to make myself presentable.”

“Sit and bleed, man,” Alexis responded. “Braver men than you have done so. Right, Corbin?” A loud snore was his response. “He’d agree with me if he wasn’t busy being so brave.”

“Sire—”

“Oh, cram it up your Vape hole!” Alexis yelled. “No more about the succession! I want to know what is being done about Langley! Tell me you are close to finding that lowdecker bastard!”

“Diggory has all of his men scouring the lower decks,” Stolt said. “He assures me the rebel will be found shortly.”

“He assures you?” Alexis laughed. “Oh, well, if a lowdecker assures you then everything must be nothing but happy pillows and wet muffins!”

Corbin snorted in his sleep and then let loose with a long, wet fart.

“Exactly!” Alexis cheered. The smile on his face slowly faded. “I want Langley taken alive. I want him taken within the week. Crush the lower decks and leave them bleeding, if that’s what it takes. The rebel will be kneeling before me in seven days or you will, Cousin Stolt. Understood?”

“Yes, sire,” Stolt nodded. “I will add my own men to the search immediately.”

“Your men haven’t been party to the manhunt?” Alexis asked.

“Not all, your highness, which is my mistake,” Stolt said. “A mistake that will be remedied as soon as I leave this hall.”

“Then leave,” Alexis said. “All of you. I call this meeting adjourned.”

No one argued and no one dallied. The master was soon left alone, except for a smattering of servants and the flatulent Corbin.

* * *

The door blew inward, just missing Langley as he slept curled up on the sacks of flour piled in the corner of the storeroom. The former rebel leader tried to jump to his feet, but several fists, as well as feet and clubs, kept him down. Despite the ferocity of the attack, the man took the beating without uttering a single cry.

“Back off, back off!” Diggory ordered as he shoved them out of the way. “Let me see the traitor!”

The men parted so Diggory could look down on the bleeding man that had once been his ally. He shook his head as he hooked a toe underneath Langley’s body and turned him over.

“Ah, look at that,” he sighed. “You’ve almost killed the man. You best pray to Helios that he lives long enough to be brought before the master.”

“As should you, Diggory,” Stolt said as he shoved men out of the way and entered the cramped storeroom. “You were the one tasked to find Langley. It will be your head on the end of a pike if the man perishes before Master Alexis can order his execution.”

“You forget that my position is equal to yours now, Stolt,” Diggory grinned. “Do not speak to me as if I am below you.”

“Yes, well, you are below me,” Stolt replied, matching Diggory’s grin. “As a lowdecker you will always be below me. Never think otherwise.”

“Are you two going to swordfight with your cocks all day or take me to the surface?” Langley mumbled through broken teeth. “I’d much rather die than listen to you two twats.”

“Then die you shall,” Stolt said. “Get him up to the surface immediately. He has an execution to make.”

* * *

“Your highness?” a man asked as he carefully walked into the great hall. “The work is complete, sire. The entire station will be able to watch the traitor’s execution as you requested.”

Alexis lifted his head from the long table as a string of gelberry colored drool dripped from his lip. He tried to focus on the man then gave up and laid his head back down.

“What’s your name?” Alexis slurred.

“Lead Tech Jin Webley, sire,” the man replied as he bowed. He glanced at the servants along the walls, but none returned his gaze. “I oversaw the work myself, your highness. If there are any problems then I take full responsibility.”

Alexis rousted himself once more and leaned back into his chair. The stench of stale liquor and spoiled food filled the great hall, but the lead tech made sure not to show he noticed as the master drunkenly studied him.

“It’s a rare thing these days for any man to claim full responsibility,” Alexis sighed. “You are either a man of great foolishness or a man of great honor. Which is it?”

“I would have to plead the former, sire,” Webley replied. “For no man could be of great honor when in your presence. To say so would be an affront to the crown.”

Alexis laughed and clapped his hands together. “Well said, sir! Well said! Someone bring this man a glass and let him share drink with me!”

“I thank you, your highness, but I do not drink,” Webley said cautiously. “My constitution does not agree with spirits in any form. My body would rebel instantly and I would embarrass myself in front of you.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Alexis asked as he motioned for his own glass to be refilled. “Do spirits loosen your inhibitions? Make you dance like a whore wanting the credits dangled before her?”

“No, sire, it is my stomach,” Webley replied. “I, well, uh, get sick.”

“Sick?” Alexis snorted. “I know what sick is. I know all too well.”

The lead tech did not respond, but stood there, waiting for his dismissal.

“Come, Womberly!” Alexis announced as he stood up. “Show me how this ‘broadcast’ will work!”

Webley did not correct the master as he snapped his fingers and two young men wheeled in a stack of electronic equipment topped by a large video screen. A third young man followed closely behind with a bulky square camera bolted to a tripod he had slung over his shoulder. The men, including Webley, quickly set up the equipment then stood to the side.

“Would you like me to do the honors, sire?” Webley asked. “Or would you prefer to be the first master in several centuries to activate this technology?”

“No, no, you do it,” Alexis said as he stumbled closer and peered directly into the lens of the camera. “Can’t risk my soul being stolen by this contraption.”

Again, Webley kept his thoughts to himself. He nodded to one of the techs and the young man began flicking switches on the stack of equipment while Webley set about turning on the camera. A slight hum and buzz could be heard as the camera warmed up then the screen on top of the equipment came to life, showing an image of Master Alexis standing there in all his drunken glory.

The master nodded and waved at the camera, amused by the immediate response on screen.

“Just like the video communications I used to speak to my daughter when she was in quarantine,” Alexis said. “Not so special really.”

Webley smiled weakly and nodded then diplomatically said, “Yes, but the image this camera catches will be beamed to hundreds of screens set up in atriums and parlors on every deck of Station Aelon. A far cry from the closed circuit connection of the communication system.”

“Same thing,” Alexis responded dismissively. “As long as the passengers get to witness the traitor’s execution then I am pleased.”

“They will, sire,” Webley said. “The only issue is there will be no sound. My deepest, deepest apologies, but the circuitry refused to behave and we found too many shorts in the wires to make it work.”

“No worries on that,” Alexis said. “As long as the people can see what happens, that is all that matters.”

“Again, sire, they will,” Webley nodded. “Where shall I set up the camera? Will it be in the main courtyard of Castle Quent?”

“No, no, no,” Alexis grinned. “That is where all the executions have been held. No, this location will be special.” He clapped his hands loudly and one of the techs squeaked with surprise. “Follow me, gentlemen. I’ll show you myself!”

* * *

The lowdecker’s mass of red hair was matted and flat against his skull as he was led towards the airlock. He kept his head down and refused to look at the nobility that had assembled in the passageway to see him die. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of the airlock door did he look up.

“Hello, Lucas,” Alexis said as the guards kept Langley just out of kicking range. “I have been looking forward to this day.”

“As have I,” Langley replied. “They are already writing songs about me. This will give the bards a fitting end to my saga.”

“Well, far be it for me to deny artists their muse,” Alexis responded. “I believe this execution will be legend for centuries to come. Shall I explain how it will go?”

“Your highness?” Stolt asked, stepping forward. “It would be more practical, and prudent, if you stood to the side and let the grand executioner take over from here.”

“Today I am the grand executioner, cousin,” Alexis stated. “Does anyone present have an issue with that?”

“Sire, please,” Stolt said. “I am not arguing with you, but I believe your weeks of grief have left you without full use of your faculties. Again, I am not arguing or trying to insult you, sire.”

“Stop sucking my ass, Stolt,” Alexis said, his sour breath nearly too powerful for the steward to bear. “I’m not going to eject you into space for trying to give me advice. I’m not my grandfather.”

“I did not mean to imply you were, your highness,” Stolt bowed. “I shall step aside and let you commence with the justice. I have been informed that the camera is operational and we are now being seen by every man, woman, and child on the station.”

“Are we?” Alexis asked as he turned to find the camera tucked to the side. He frowned and looked about the passageway. “Where is Wombley?”

“Webley, sire?” Stolt asked.

“Who?”

“Webley, the lead technician? Is that who you are asking for?”

“Right. That guy,” Alexis said.

“I’m here, your majesty,” Webley said as he pushed past the rows of nobility that blocked him. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Will the camera see what happens inside the airlock?” Alexis asked.

“No, sire, not until we wheel it forward.”

“Then do so now!” Alexis ordered. “Because now this man dies!”

Guards opened the airlock and Langley got a good, hard look at his fate. For the first time since being held captive, he actively fought against his bonds and tried to dig his feet in as he was dragged forward.

“You are an animal, Alexis!” Langley yelled as he saw the heavy chains attached to large, metal weights. In the center of the airlock was a thick post, bolted directly into the floor. “What did I do to you to deserve such cruelty?”

“You pissed me off,” Alexis stated. “Then my family died. I look at this as an exorcism of all the evil in this station. Once you are gone then all will return to normal and Station Aelon will be at peace once again.”

“You are a mad fool if you believe that,” Langley hissed as his back was forced up against the post so that he was facing the passageway. Heavy chains were strapped about his torso so that he could not budge a single inch.

“No, Langley, just a sad, tired monarch,” Alexis admitted. “I hope this act will be enough to let me rest once again.”

Langley started to argue, but a guard punched him in the mouth, sending the last couple of teeth he had left clattering to the floor. Alexis did not protest at the man’s treatment, in fact he seemed to revel in it.

The nobility in attendance shifted nervously as they watched the guards attach the chains around Langley’s forearms and calves. Alexis glanced over his shoulder to see what reception the rebel leader’s treatment was getting and was disappointed by the preponderance of frowns.

“Cheer up, you lot!” Alexis yelled. “This is a celebration!”

Forced smiles bloomed like mold on week old bread and Alexis shook his head in frustration.

“Never can please the nobility,” Alexis muttered to himself. “Father was right. There’s no use trying.”

Finished securing Langley to the post, and the chains with weights to his arms and legs, the guards exited the airlock and closed and sealed the door. The porthole into the airlock wasn’t large enough for the crowd to see in so they all turned their attention to the boxy screen set up just to the side. Alexis, however, moved forward and peered through the porthole, his eyes locking with Langley’s one last time.

“Your highness?” Webley said from behind him. “I need to place the camera now.”

“Of course, Wombley,” Alexis said. “My apologies.”

There were barely contained gasps at the monarch’s apology to a commoner, but all quickly shut up when Alexis turned towards the crowd. He bowed to all then placed his attention squarely on the screen while his hand was squarely on the airlock release lever.

“All set, Wombley?” Alexis asked.

“Yes, sire,” Webley replied. “The subject is in focus and the camera is broadcasting. It is all in your hands now.”

“Isn’t it always,” Alexis said under his breath. He looked at the assemblage and started to speak, but decided against a long speech and just slammed the lever down.

A claxon rang out as the opposite side of the airlock began to slide open onto one of the station’s few access tunnels that led outside of the atmospheric shield. Although no sound came through the airlock door, Alexis imagined he could hear the roar of the wind as the air escaped around the condemned man and was sucked out into space.

Langley’s mouth opened in an unheard scream as the weights attached to the chains were lifted into the air, pulled by the vacuum of open space. The man’s arms were yanked backwards and legs lifted at unnatural angles while his torso stayed securely in place. Langley’s extremities started to bend further until it looked like he was a child’s toy that had met some irresponsible demise.

The crowd gasped as Langley’s right arm began to tear away from his body. The blood was instantly whisked away by the vacuum, but there was still plenty of gore as muscles started to rip and tendons popped from the brute force. Langley’s left arm joined the first, then his right leg followed by his left leg.

A few of the noblewomen, and more noblemen than would admit later, gagged and tore their eyes away from the screen, the horror too much for them. Alexis watched in fascination as one by one, Langley’s limbs ripped off of him and flew through the tunnel and out into the cold of space, forever fated to float through the System.

Alexis reached out and shoved the airlock lever back into its original position. The claxon stopped and Langley’s body sagged, held against the post only by the many chains.

“Open it,” Alexis ordered and the guards moved forward and swung wide the airlock door.

Blood dripped from Langley’s stumps as Alexis stepped inside the airlock and right up to the tortured man’s face.

“Can you hear me, traitor?” Alexis snarled. “Show me you can hear the voice of the man that has beaten you.”

“You...can...never...beat...me,” Langley whispered. “I...will...die...your...equal. History...will prove...that.”

“You flatter yourself and inflate your importance,” Alexis sneered. “History is written by the victors, not the scum like you.”

“You...assume...you...are the...victor,” Langley said, still managing a smirk.

“Finish it,” Alexis ordered as he turned abruptly and left the airlock. “Move it. Now!”

The guards dragged in one last chain and weight and affixed it around Langley’s neck. Alexis stopped outside the door and once more placed his hand on the lever. Once the guards had exited and the door was closed, he wasted no time in slamming the lever down for the last time.

No gasps, no gags, no sounds from the crowd; they stood stunned as the chain crushed Langley’s neck and sent his head flying out of the airlock. Alexis watched the flow of blood from Langley’s headless torso slow then stop altogether. When the last drop was gone, Alexis closed the airlock and walked to the porthole.

“Take it away,” he ordered and Webley did not hesitate as he removed the camera from the airlock door.

The nobility waited in silence as the master stared through the small circle of glass at what was left of his enemy.

“Your highness?” Stolt asked, finally approaching the monarch. “Shall I have the invited guests proceed to the great hall for the banquet?”

“Yes,” was all Alexis said.

Stolt did not press the issue and turned to motion for everyone to leave. None of the nobility hesitated and soon the passageway was clear except for Alexis who stood stock still at the airlock porthole.

Seconds, minutes, an hour went by without the master moving a muscle.

“Father?”

“Mmmmm?” Alexis replied as Esther walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Father, everyone is wondering where you are,” Esther said as she moved next to the man and took her own firsthand look at the bloodless torso still held to the post. “Cousin Stolt has grown worried and some of the stewards are beginning to wonder if you haven’t lost your mind.”

“Are they?” Alexis asked, tearing his attention from the airlock so he could focus on his oldest child. He looked at her face and his heart nearly broke as he saw so much of his beloved wife looking back at him. “I will assure them later that I may have lost almost everything in my life, but my mind cannot be counted within that tally.”

He frowned at Esther and looked about the passageway.

“Where’s Alexis?”

“In our quarters. With three nurses,” Esther stated. “And two physicians as you ordered he shall always be.”

“Good,” Alexis said. “That is good.”

The man stretched and cracked his neck then rolled his shoulders and smiled down on the young woman who was his daughter.

“Escort me to the banquet?” he asked.

“But of course, Father.” Esther nodded. “That is why I came to fetch you. This is a time when you need family.”

“And Helios knows we are short on that, we Teirmonts,” Alexis laughed hollowly.

“Family is not measured in numbers, Father, but counted in the love felt,” Esther responded. “As long as there is you and me and little Alexis then there will always be a Teirmont family.”

“And my sister,” Alexis said. “Where was your aunt this evening? She did not attend the execution.”

“She said she has had her fill of blood for a lifetime,” Esther said. “I don’t blame her.”

“Neither do I,” Alexis nodded. “Unfortunately, as master, there will be so much more blood in my future. There always is.”

“Does there have to be, Father?” Esther asked. “Can this not end things?”

“No,” Alexis said. “There are those that will always rise up against the crown. Not just in Station Aelon, but from the other stations. And the primes…”

Alexis and Esther walked silently the rest of the way to the banquet hall, trailed and watched over by royal guards the entire way. The added security disturbed Esther, but she kept that fact to herself. She knew, despite her wishful thinking, that the lower decks were not at rest. Even with Moses Diggory in charge, the lowdeckers would never forget the execution of one so beloved as Lucas Langley.

There was a huge cheer when the two royals entered the great hall, but Esther could feel the hollowness of it. Broad smiles didn’t meet wide eyes, the clapping was wooden and automatic, the cries of “Huzzah!” rehearsed and forced. Esther wondered if her father might have made more enemies by killing just one.

“Thank you!” Alexis yelled as he raised his hands to quiet those assembled for the feast. “I thank each and every one of you for your loyalty and support!”

The hall quieted down and the nobles and gentry took their seats, all eyes on the master.

“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said. “The execution of the traitor does not mean the conflict is over. There is much that must be done to repair the damage, both physically and spiritually, perpetrated by Langley and his rebellion. Many joined him that did not wish to, but were forced to believe in his campaign. I will be listening to pleas of mercy and I promise to be fair.”

There were some nods, but many grumbles as well. Esther could see the distrust in the nobles’ eyes, but she could also see the bloodlust that still thirsted for “justice.”

“The council will confer and decide the next meeting of stewards and meeting of passengers,” Alexis said.

Someone coughed an expletive and Alexis frowned as he searched the hall for the offender.

“Did you think I would abandon the passengers?” Alexis asked. “All people of Station Aelon deserve a voice. I refuse to listen when that voice comes in the form of heavy blades, but I will listen when presented as reason instead of treason.”

The hall laughed at the slight joke.

“Men are men and not animals,” Alexis said. “Treating a man like a shaow or grendt is not how we as the royalty or nobility should rule. We give men a voice and they will give us their hearts.”

“What about women?” a high voice asked from the back of the hall.

There were some audible gasps and angry rumbling instantly.

“Ha, yes, women need a voice as well,” Alexis said. “But perhaps that voice is best left inside the family quarters? A woman’s voice should be what children hear, what a husband hears, yet not what a meeting hears.”

The men of the hall cheered at that proclamation, as did many women, but some held back. Esther was one that held back and she gave a sharp, reproachful look towards her father.

Then she caught sight of her aunt standing by one of the hall entrances. Their eyes met and Esther could see the sadness held there. Melinda turned abruptly and stalked away from the hall, leaving Esther alone to ponder the real meaning of her father’s words.

“But enough of this tedious business!” Alexis called out. “Eat! Drink! Enjoy the night for the traitor is finally dead!”

That time the cheers and “Huzzahs!” were genuine and the entire hall got down to the business of celebrating. Alexis looked at his daughter and the twinkle of triumph in his eye that had been so present during his speech faded away quickly. Esther raised an eyebrow, but Alexis only shook his head as he sat down to the huge plate of food that was set before him, having to be carried by two servants.

A much more modest plate was set before Esther and she thanked the young man that brought it to her before taking her own seat. She picked at the food, pretending to eat with the same joy and abandon as the rest of the hall, but she mainly pushed the portions around. As the night continued, she laughed at the right jokes, blushed at the right compliments, acted offended at the right drunken insults, and ignored the ones that should have been ignored.

Yet, as the evening moved from night and into early morning, Esther couldn’t help notice that her father kept glancing over at her. And as he drank more and more gelberry wine, it was obvious that something distressed him deeply. Esther knew it wasn’t the usual pain of loss that had possessed him since her mother’s and siblings’ deaths, but something else. Something new…

“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said.

Esther had to wonder what those changes would be and how they affected her. A pit in her stomach opened as she considered the possibilities.

* * *

“I am master and the decision has been made,” Alexis said as he drank his tea.

Two days had passed since the feast and he had been busy writing a speech that would let the people of Station Aelon know exactly what changes were to be made. Unfortunately for Esther, she would not be on the station to hear the speech as her father had just informed her.

“The prime?” Esther gasped. “I’m a minoress! You want me to go and live amongst the miners and planet trash?”

“There are some fine people down on Aelon Prime,” Alexis replied. “I spent many a summer riding skids across the scrim grass plains and boating on the royal cutters. You and your brother will love the relaxed life the prime can bring.”

“And I am to be their nanny, is that it Alexis?” Melinda asked from her seat in the corner. Her own tea had grown cold, just like the look she gave her brother. “Babysit the next master and train up the minoress so she can be married off to one of the other stations? I should thank you, but I just can’t seem to find the words.”

“Shaowshit!” Esther shouted. “How’s that for a word?”

“It’ll do the job.” Melinda frowned.

“You two seem to believe this is a debate,” Alexis said.

“No, dear brother, I have no illusions to that end,” Melinda said. “I know your feelings on the standing of women on Station Aelon. Perhaps when I am in charge of the estate on Aelon Prime I can implement my feelings on the subject. Far away from the prying eyes of our benevolent master.”

“Don’t try me, Sister,” Alexis grumbled. He barely dodged the teacup as it flew at his head. “Melinda!”

“You and me!” Melinda roared as she stood up and charged the master. “That is all that is left of our family!”

Alexis stood to meet her and the minoress slowed when she saw the rage upon his face. He was an imposing figure and even her fury couldn’t dampen the fear he instilled as he towered over her.

“And now there is just myself and my brother,” Esther said, placing a gentle hand on Melinda’s shoulder. “Auntie? Father has made a decision and it is our duty, not just as women of the family, but as loyal subjects to the crown, that we obey that decision.” She turned and smiled up at her father. “When does the shuttle leave?”

“First thing in the morning,” Alexis said. “It is short notice, but it is the only window you have. The next few weeks of orbital synchronization and planetary access are taken up with shipments to and from The Way Prime. It is either tomorrow or three months from now. I prefer it happen immediately.”

“Of course,” Esther nodded then curtsied. “I will prepare my things.”

“Your servants are packing as we speak,” Alexis said then looked at his sister. “As are yours.”

“Eliza would be furious with you,” Melinda spat. The sudden slap from her brother rocked her head back and blood came away as she wiped her mouth. “You are lost.”

“I am master,” Alexis said and sat down. “It’s the same thing.”

Act III—A New Life, A Sudden Death

“The primes now are nothing as they were during the times of the Reign of Four. None, not even Thraen Prime, had even the inklings of the bustling, domed metropolises that stand on the planet now. They were wild and free, frontiers that had yet to be conquered fully. They were, to use a form of their very names, primitive. This is what shaped a master and started Station Aelon on a course that would span many generations and see bloodshed like the System had never witnessed before.”

—Dr. D. Reven, Eighty-Third Archivist of The Way

“When your cousin does offend thee, then smite him down, for he should know his place. When your enemy does offend thee, then bring him close, for he should have a place. When you offend thyself, then look to Helios, for the Dear Parent will always know your place.”

—Chants 3:25, The Ledger

“We cannot escape our history. Why try? As a master, I look to the future, but learn from the past. Just as masters and mistresses that come later will look back at my reign. What will they see? I cannot speak for them; only act now and speak for myself. Just as my great grandfather did in his time.”

—Journals of Alexis IV, Master of Station Aelon

Chapter Seven

The master tugged at the bottom of the doublet, his face scrunched up in frustration as the new garment insisted on riding up around his soft belly.

“Why must we conform with these ridiculous fashions?” Alexis growled to Steward Stolt as the two men waited to be announced. “What charter did we sign that said Station Thraen dictates the clothing trends of the System?”

He pulled and pulled at the doublet, his anger rising higher and higher with every tug.

“And did we not send my dimensions to their tailor?” Alexis snapped. “If so then this blasted thing must have shrunk during shipment!”

“I understand your frustration, your highness,” Stolt said as he resisted the same urge to worry at the hem of his own doublet, a new style of garment many of the various stations’ nobility had begun wearing the previous season. “But we are here to keep friends and find you a new match. Not to have worn our gifts would be a massive insult to Master Paul.”

Stolt looked about and made sure they were not being eavesdropped on.

“And my sources have confirmed what we have all heard,” Stolt grinned. “That Paul the Fair has expanded considerably over the years. Not just in his famed cruelty, but in his girth as well.”

“Has he really?” Alexis smiled, not feeling so self-conscious about the extra fifteen pounds he had put on since last seeing the monarch of Station Thraen. “Perhaps the sizing of this thing was on purpose?”

“So we all look to have ill-fitting clothing and a little extra around the middle?” Stolt smirked. “Sire, would a master stoop so low just to satisfy his ego?”

“No, never,” Alexis laughed as they stepped up to the entrance of Station Thraen’s great hall.

“Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First!” the porter announced. “Accompanied by Steward Stolt of Sectors Kirke, Shem, Maelphy, Bueke, Gormand, and Trint on Station Aelon.”

There was a large round of applause as Alexis bowed low, showing that even at the age of forty-two he could still exhibit grace. He straightened up and strode with purpose down the middle of the hall towards where Master of Station Thraen, Paul IV sat with his third wife, Carmnella.

“Your majesty,” Alexis said as he bowed again. “It is an honor to be invited to your son’s Blessing Day.”

“I must wonder why you decided to attend this one, Master Alexis,” Paul said, his cruel eyes hovering over a broad, empty smile. A smile nearly hidden in folds of indulgent fat. The master shook his head and his heavily jowled neck became an earthquake of flesh. “I have four other sons, all who had Blessing Days before this. Not to mention that you couldn’t join me during my coronation either.”

Alexis looked up from his bow at the master then turned his gaze to Mistress Carmnella.

“Nor did I attend your three weddings,” Alexis said as he stood straight. “But if I had known the mistress would be this beautiful I would have dropped all matters of station and flown a shuttle here myself.”

The mistress blushed and ducked her head. Alexis couldn’t help but notice that her movements were away from Paul and not towards him. The master had to wonder what cruelties the woman suffered at the hands of her husband. He’d seen similar behavior in his grandmother when his grandfather’s ire was up.

“Master Alexis had wanted to attend every single occasion, your highness,” Stolt said as he moved in to smooth some of the tension. “But the life of a master is beyond complex and busy, a fact you are well acquainted with. Which is why we missed you at the funerals of Alexis’s wife and children those many years ago.”

“Or the wedding of my daughter Esther to Zaik, Minor of Klaerv, just last year,” Alexis said. “We masters are so, so busy.”

“Ah, yes, do give my regards to the minoress on her nuptials,” Paul said. “Landing the heir to the crown of Station Klaerv? What an honor. I’ve always thought of Station Klaerv as such a quaint monarchy, living so close in the shadow of the much larger Station of Ploerv.”

A few of the Thraenish attendants hid snickers behind gloved hands and Paul feigned anger and disgust instantly.

“I apologize for my court’s reaction,” Paul said. “You know how Thraen can be. We are just too prideful for decorum sometimes.” Paul leaned forward. “But I am sure you know of what I speak since your late wife was Ploervian. She must have known all about the inadequacies of Station Klaerv. I am willing to bet she would have objected to such a union if she had been alive.”

There was an audible hush from those within hearing distance. Even the snickers went quiet at that statement.

“Which is one of the reasons Master Alexis is here with you today,” Stolt said, hoping to head his master off before the Teirmont anger could raise its head. “Master Alexis has decided that the royal crown needs a partner once again.” He turned and spread his arms wide, taking in the entire hall, then looked over his shoulder and beamed at Master Paul. “And where else could my master hope to find a more pleasing sampling of royalty and good breeding? The court of Station Thraen has always been known for its standards when it comes to those who are considered the most noble of nobility.”

“Which is why we like to include even the Aelish,” Paul laughed. “To balance out the beauty!” He raised his hands high then slapped his thighs with a force that made the fat on his legs jiggle and roll. “I kid! A grand joke for such a grand guest! I hope you take no offense to my humorous ways, Master Alexis. We masters rarely get to jest back and forth.”

“If I take offense at your words, Master Paul, you will be the first to know it,” Alexis replied.

Stolt looked from one monarch to the other, his eyes trying to gauge the tenor of their moods. He had informed the shuttle crew to be on standby in case a hasty exit needed to be made.

“Well, hello there, Master Alexis,” a woman in her late twenties said as she walked up to the royal party. “Such a pleasure to see you again. Time has been very, very kind to you.”

The woman wore a wide, flowing dress of delicate breen thread like nothing Alexis had seen. Almost iridescent in color, shining bright blue then green then yellow all in a single blink, the woman drew every eye in the hall to her. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a tight bun that was studded with sparkling jewels from Thraen Prime. The woman’s brown eyes watched Alexis closely and waited for his response.

“I...I am sorry, my lady,” Alexis replied. “I am not sure we have had the pleasure.”

“Oh, we have had the pleasure,” the woman laughed. “You had the pleasure of meeting me when I was but eight years old. I had the pleasure of you saving my life. Although, I have to admit it was sort of your fault I fell prey to that attack that day since it was intended for you.”

Alexis studied the woman’s face, noting every curve and angle, dimple and ridge. He puzzled for several seconds as the woman waited patiently.

“Meredith?” he asked at last.

The woman curtseyed, but did not lower her eyes. “At your service, sire.”

“My, how you have matured,” Alexis said. “Of course I knew you would be beautiful one day, but I had no idea just how beautiful. It is always a pleasure to see one’s expectations exceeded. Your husband must be full of pride.”

“If she would take one,” Master Paul snapped. “But somehow she has will to match her beauty. Don’t you, dearest of sisters?”

“I’m sorry, but I am confused,” Alexis said, looking from Paul to Meredith and then to Stolt. “I was under the impression you had married Steward Gramblitt of Station Haelm. Was that not part of your terms of treaty?”

“It was,” Paul said, his voice cold. “But dearest sister here decided it was not a match for her. Thraen was lucky we were not plunged back into war, but Steward Gramblitt happily accepted the hand of my sister, Edwina. She is not as fair as Meredith, but she is younger by a decade and much more suited to producing heirs to those vast estates Gramblitt holds on Station Haelm as well as Haelm Prime.”

“He smelled of gully fish and honey wasp liquor,” Meredith said as she leaned in close to Alexis so only he could hear. There were instant whispers at the improper familiarity she took with the master, but she ignored them and instead looked up into Alexis’s blue eyes. “I believe I deserve more than a steward who doesn’t understand the meaning of proper oral hygiene.”

“I believe so as well, my lady,” Alexis said as he took the minoress’s hand and kissed it gently. “It would be a crime to have a woman such as you clouded in a miasma of Haelmish stench.”

Stolt cleared his throat and nudged the master. “The Haelm delegation is directly behind us, sire.”

“Good,” Alexis said. “Then they can witness how a woman such as this deserves nothing less than the highest royal honor, not another greedy steward looking to elevate his position within his station.”

Stolt looked back at the stricken and angry faces of the Haelmish royals and tried to give them a reassuring smile.

“Master Paul, with your permission, I would be honored if your dearest sister would sit with me this evening during the feast,” Alexis said, Meredith’s hand still held within his own. “Unless you find objection to my attempt to make up for my previous royal neglect?”

Paul and Alexis stared at each other as only two monarchs could until finally Paul broke the gaze and waved his hand.

“Please do, Master Alexis,” Master Paul said. “It would honor me if you would entertain my sister for the evening. I do warn you that she can be a handful.”

“I am counting on it,” Alexis said and turned quickly, leading Meredith away from her corpulent brother.

Stolt was left standing there with his mouth agape, trapped between an irritated Thraen master and an irate delegation of Haelmish royals.

“I, uh, well…” Stolt stuttered. He bowed low when he couldn’t find words.

“Begone, steward,” Master Paul said. “I will fetch you when I am ready to discuss business.”

“Yes, your highness! Thank you, your highness!” Stolt said and hurried away as fast as he could to find his seat.

* * *

The two royals watched as the other nobility and members of station proceeded to attempt the steps of the newest dance.

The women twirled about, having pinned bright blue ribbons to their dresses, while the men stood stock still, nodding in time to the drumbeat. The melody of the song seemed to repeat itself over and over and over until it came to an abrupt halt and the men fell to their knees, hands out in supplication. The women mock-tittered, then turned and hopped to the center of the hall.

“Can a dance make one sick to one’s stomach even if one is not participating?” Meredith mused. “I may need to fetch a porter and relieve my distress with some mid-course regurgitation.” She turned her head and appraised Alexis. “Unless your highness enjoys this sort of thing. Then I apologize fully.”

“I do not,” Alexis replied. “My interest in forced gaiety left me several years ago.”

“About the time your wife passed, I would suspect,” Meredith said.

It was Alexis’s turn for appraisal and he studied Meredith’s face, looking for the smirk, for the sneer. But she only raised her eyebrows at the master then lifted her glass.

“I hate to waste time on the important matters,” Meredith said. “Your love for your wife was legend. I have to know if it still burns or if there is room for another fire in your life.”

“Legend?” Alexis asked. “When was my love for Eliza legend?”

“Oh, please, Alexis,” Meredith said, going straight for the informal. “Bards have written songs about it for over a decade now. Maidens spend nights listening to the words, wishing they had what you had, while exploring their baser selves.”

“Is that so?” Alexis smiled. “I never knew.” He lifted his own glass and clinked it against Meredith’s. “Were you one of those maidens that explored the baser self while listening to a fool’s romantic notions?”

“Perhaps,” Meredith said as her free hand found the top of his thigh under the table. “But I have never needed a prompt or excuse for such actions.” She grinned and took a long drink from her glass then tapped it on the table so a servant could refill it. “Nor would I consider those actions base. I’ve always thought I possess a certain skill that elevates me above other women.”

The servant’s eyes went wide and he hurried off as soon as the glass was full.

“It’s good to see you are just as shy now as when I first met you,” Alexis laughed as his hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. “I would have hated for you to lose your innocence and tact.”

“Tact is for the passengers,” Meredith replied. “What’s the point of putting up with all the shaowshit of being a royal if you have to be restrained by tact? If I have learned anything from my brother, it is that royals and tact need not be bedfellows.”

“Then who should be bedfellows?” Alexis asked then turned to look across the hall before she could answer. “Perhaps that man and that woman there?”

“Sector Warden LeFlique and Madame Guntheest?” Meredith laughed. “It would take that man an hour just to find his own cock, let alone her jenny.”

“Jenny? Is that what Thraens call it?” Alexis grinned. “Interesting…”

“Those two. See? Now they would be well matched bedfellows,” Meredith pointed to a table where a diminutive man and a grossly obese woman sat, each looking in opposite directions. “The sexual tension is almost too much to bear.”

“She’d crush him!” Alexis guffawed.

“Then he would be wise to think through his approach,” Meredith nodded. “Perhaps a rear assault would work best?”

Alexis just shook his head as he tried not to choke on a sip of brandy. Meredith politely patted him on the back until he had himself under control.

“Oh, dear, I almost killed the Master of Station Aelon with crude humor,” Meredith said. “Who knew I was so deadly?” She looked into his empty glass. “Another?”

“Oh, at least,” Alexis said as he held his glass up and it was instantly refilled. “Leave the bottle.”

The servant looked at Meredith then set the bottle of brandy between them.

“Do you enjoy your drink regularly, Alexis?” Meredith asked. “Or are you merely a social indulger?”

“I can put away a bottle now and again,” Alexis said. “But I do not partake as much as I used to. I’ll admit to quite a bit of debauchery during my lost years, though.”

“Your lost years? That was when you sent your children down to Helios to live on Aelon Prime, am I right? That must have been hard to do.”

“Keeping them with me would have been harder,” Alexis said. “For them as much as for me. I was not in my right mind for a good long time after I lost Eliza and the others.”

“No, I would think not,” Meredith sighed. “And did the drinking work? Did it wash away the grief?”

“Of course not,” Alexis said. “Only time can do that.”

“Good to know,” Meredith said. “Although I hope to never find out personally.”

“Do you not want children?” Alexis asked.

“Oh, I do, very much,” Meredith said. “I just don’t want the heartbreak that can come with them.”

“It is worth it,” Alexis said. “In some strange way, at least.”

“Do you see him?”

“Who?”

“Your son Alexis,” Meredith replied. “Does he visit the station often or do you visit him on your prime?”

“There have been visits,” Alexis frowned. “Not as many as there should be, but we enjoy each other’s company when we can.”

“And is he as tall and strapping as his father?” Meredith grinned.

“Much more so,” Alexis admitted. “He is a very handsome young man. Fair-complected like me. Perhaps an inch or two taller, even.”

“Already? How old is he?”

“Thirteen. No. Fourteen? My Helios, I can’t remember my own son’s age,” Alexis laughed as he downed his brandy. “Probably a side effect of those lost years.”

“Years of debauchery,” Meredith added. “Your son is so young to be so tall.”

“It’s the way of the Teirmonts,” Alexis shrugged. “We grow big.”

“Do you?” Meredith responded, her hand moving along his leg. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Alexis nodded, letting her do as she pleased. “I would never brag about something that could so easily be disproved.”

“Sire?” Stolt interrupted as he stepped up behind the master. “I believe Master Paul would like to discuss business now. Shall I tell him you are coming?”

“Must we do that now?” Alexis asked. “I have been sitting here enjoying the minoress’s company.”

“Which is why Paul wants to talk now,” Meredith said, keeping her eyes averted from the sight of her brother sitting at the front of the great hall. “He’s been watching us have fun and now wants to take that away. One thing you must know about my brother is he is perpetually five years old and hates it when others have fun that he is not a part of. He will kick your sandcastle over, Alexis, for no other reason than just to see you cry. Be warned.”

“I know how to protect my castles, my dear,” Alexis said as he reluctantly stood up. His lips found her cheek and brushed it lightly. “I protect everything I care for.”

His words sent a small shiver down Meredith’s spine and for the first time that evening she looked like she was at a loss for words.

“Yes, well, he is waiting,” Stolt said, unsure of what he had witnessed. “Shall we, sire?”

“Lead the way, Cousin,” Alexis said as he rolled his eyes and then winked at Meredith. “You will be here when I return, I hope?”

“Oh, I have no plans to abandon you, Alexis,” Meredith replied.

“Good,” Alexis said and bowed low. “Until then, my lady.”

Stolt waved towards the front of the hall and Paul gave a perfunctory wave back as the steward and master walked towards the Master of Station Thraen.

“You seem to be getting on well with the minoress,” Stolt said. “She seems like a lovely person. You know who else is a lovely person? Stewardess Vla—”

“Stop, Cousin,” Alexis interrupted. “I have no interest in any stewardess, no matter what wealth and holdings she has.”

“But, sire, part of why we are here is to shore up Aelon’s treasury,” Stolt said. “And in order to do that we must find you a match that has sufficient resources.”

“And the entire station and Prime of Thraen is not sufficient enough for you, Stolt?” Alexis asked.

“Sire? Minoress Meredith is out of the question. Her reputation as a firebrand precedes her. I believe, if you must choose from Station Thraen, perhaps one of Master Paul’s less spirited sisters would be better suited for Aelon’s needs.”

Alexis stopped and looked at Stolt. The steward tried to smile, but the withering gaze Alexis gave him made it difficult.

“Or you could do as you see fit for the station, sire,” Stolt said quickly. “Your happiness is always what is best for all of Aelon.”

“It’s also what is best for you, Cousin,” Alexis stated. “Always keep that in mind.”

“Oh, I do, sire, no worry there,” Stolt said then gestured towards the waiting master. “Shall we complete the main part of why we have come to Station Thraen?”

“Yes, please,” Alexis said, looking over his shoulder at where Meredith sat, her eyes watching him closely. “The sooner we conclude this part the sooner I can get started on the next.”

* * *

She slammed him up against the wall as soon as the door closed to her quarters. Their mouths pressed hard against each other, as did their bodies, while their hands fumbled at laces and clasps.

“Damn this dress!” Meredith snarled as she pushed Alexis away. “It takes three of my ladies to get me into the stupid thing!”

She grabbed Alexis by the collar and yanked him back towards her mouth. She nearly devoured him as his hands lifted her layers of skirts only to find even more layers.

“Use your blade,” she gasped.

“I plan to,” he replied.

“No, moron, your actual blade,” she laughed. “Cut me out of this Helios forsaken dress!”

Alexis stepped away and grabbed the hilt of his short blade. It was a ceremonial one, only brought out on official business, but it was still plenty sharp.

“Are you sure? That is quite the dress,” Alexis said.

“You’ll buy me another,” she said as she turned around and pointed to the long row of laces that went from the nape of her neck all the way down past her lower back.

“Will I?” Alexis chuckled as he hooked the tip of the blade under the very bottom lace. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

“This entire encounter is presumptuous,” Meredith laughed. “There is only one way forward from here, you know. Too many people saw us leave the hall together, stagger down the passageway together, and will soon hear how loud we are together. You will ask me to be your wife and you will buy me a new dress.”

“I don’t think we have anything as beautiful as this dress on Station Aelon,” Alexis responded, not quite grasping what she said, as he slit every lace up her back with a quick swipe of his blade. “But I will make sure to change that.”

“Yes, you will,” Meredith said as she turned about and shimmied out of her dress.

She stood there in her undergarments which hugged her long torso and muscular legs. Alexis was on her at once, but she shoved him back, her eyes looking him up and down.

“You’ve seen me in my dainties, now let’s see the legendary Master of Station Aelon in his,” Meredith smirked. “Fair is fair, Alexis.”

“You don’t want to see this old man’s broken body,” Alexis replied as he stepped back from her.

“Alexis,” Meredith said as she moved towards him and took his hands, pressing them to her chest. “If this is going to go where I think we both expect it to go, then you’ll have to undress in front of me at some point. Husband and wife can’t remain modest for long.”

“Husband and…” he trailed off, finally catching up and realizing the true implications of what was occurring. “So you would consider it?”

“Consider it?” Meredith laughed. “I’ve dreamed of it since that day on Helios. I was a minoress rescued by a master. Please, you can’t top that for an adolescent girl’s fantasy.”

“But we barely know each other.”

“Oh, shut up,” Meredith said as she gripped his tunic and tore it open. “You know familiarity plays no part in matches of royalty. We should feel lucky we feel anything for each other at all.”

She pulled his tunic off then struggled not to gasp at the stained dressing that covered part of his side and abdomen.

“Is that…?”

“Where I was stabbed on Helios by a traitorous gatekeeper and then stabbed again by the rebel Lucas Langley,” Alexis nodded. “Damn thing refuses to heal all the way. I have to clean it daily and be careful not to allow any contaminants to get inside. It’s a burden that I do not wish to force on anyone.”

“Burden, my ass,” Meredith smiled as she led him over to the bed. “Lie down. I’ll clean it for you now.”

“That’s not necessary,” Alexis said as he tried to pull away from her, but was firmly shoved down onto the mattress. “I should leave. I’m afraid I have spoiled the mood.”

“Again, shut up,” Meredith said as she went to a side table and fetched a washcloth and basin of clean water. “You don’t know me well enough to say what mood you have spoiled. Perhaps I like to tend to weak and feeble older men?”

“Weak and feeble?” Alexis laughed, grabbing her in his arms and pulling her on top of him. “I’ll show you weak and feeble.”

“Not yet, you won’t,” Meredith smiled softly as she extricated herself from his grip. “Let me take care of this, since you have neglected it today obviously, and then perhaps I’ll let you prove my words wrong.”

Meredith carefully removed the dressing and tossed it aside. She studied the wound, which was streaked with black lines and wept a clear liquid from the edges. She hissed at the sight, but didn’t let it stop her as she wet the washcloth and set about gently cleaning the wound from edge to edge.

“You are a different sort of woman, aren’t you?” Alexis asked. “I wonder why no other man has snatched you up.”

“Because I haven’t been waiting for another man,” Meredith said as she rinsed the washcloth and started again. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Have you now?”

“I have,” she nodded. “And not very patiently. I do hope you aren’t offended when I tell you that I lost my maidenhead a long while back.”

“I’d be surprised if you hadn’t,” Alexis laughed.

“And what does that mean?” she glared. “Is his highness calling me a slut?”

“On the contrary,” Alexis replied. “A slut is a woman that indiscriminately gives herself to men. I highly, highly doubt you do anything indiscriminately, nor would you give yourself away. You take what you want, and that is not a slut, but a woman with confidence and power.”

“You have no idea how sexy you sound right now,” Meredith smiled as she finished her second round of swabbing the wound and set the cloth and basin aside. “Luckily for me, you are all clean. Let me redress this and then you can experience my confidence and power.”

Alexis watched her walk across the quarters and into the bathroom. He could hear her opening and closing drawers until she finally came out with a fresh dressing in one hand and absolutely nothing on.

“I decided to save you the effort of removing my dainties,” Meredith grinned as she slowly walked over to the bed, making sure he saw every inch of her.

She was not a skinny woman at all, but strong and made of curves. Her legs, belly, arms rippled with muscle and Alexis couldn’t help but wonder how a woman like her could stay confined in a station. She had the body of a prime explorer and from what he’d witnessed, the temperament as well.

Neither of them spoke a word as she covered his wound with the dressing, making sure it was secure, but not too tight.

Her hand reached out and dimmed the lights then she climbed onto the bed, her legs straddling him. She shook her head and her auburn hair dangled down, tickling his cheeks as she slowly lowered herself to him, pressing her breasts into his chest.

Alexis wrapped his arms about her as she reached between his legs and joined them together. They did not move, they just stayed that way, one being of flesh, connected in the most intimate way possible. Their breathing began to synchronize and then Meredith started to move up and down upon Alexis, making both of them suddenly gasp at the same time.

Neither was in a rush, and all the talk of confidence and power was forgotten as they found a rhythm that was the complete opposite of the hurried, sweaty lovemaking each was used to. They stared into each other’s eyes as they indulged their passions with a leisurely casualness that made both of them smile broadly.

“Do I look happy?” Alexis asked.

“You do, sire,” Meredith said, her voice breathy and catching slightly on the downstroke. “Do I?”

“I believe so, my lady,” Alexis responded before his own voice was stolen by a move from Meredith that left him tingling and almost helpless under her. “That was new.”

“I saved the best for you, my dear Alexis,” Meredith giggled. “Told you, I had been waiting.”

“And am I thankful,” he replied just as he threw her to the side and rolled on top of her. “Now, how about I show you my best?”

* * *

“Well, isn’t this an unexpected delight,” Paul said as he sipped from his glass while servants laid out an elaborate brunch before him, his wife, Steward Stolt, Alexis and Meredith. “I hope it’s not just because of the immense dowry that has been accruing interest since my sister was of marrying age.” He laughed and snapped his fingers. “Quick! Someone do the compound calculations! After all the years of rejected suitors, the amount must be enormous!”

Alexis bristled at Paul’s words, but Meredith’s firm hand under the table stayed the biting response he had ready.

“Station Aelon will be happy with new wealth in their coffers,” Stolt nodded. “But, as we can all see, I believe this matter was of the heart and not the pocketbook.”

“Every matter is of the pocketbook,” Paul snickered. “Especially matters of the heart. You know that, steward. Your strategic marriages have made you a man of wealth that even some masters of station would envy.”

“I have been fortunate in my holdings, but unfortunate in my loss of spouses over the years,” Stolt replied. “How I would give up every credit to take just one of my wives in my arms again.”

“Your last wife was taken in the weeping sickness outbreak that stole all but one of Master Alexis’s heirs, am I right?” Paul asked, draining his glass. “Yet you have stayed a bachelor all these years. May I ask why?”

“I have not found the right partner,” Stolt responded. “And my duties to the crown have prevented me from having much of a private life. Perhaps when I am ready to retire from court I will find someone suitable.”

“Well, the best of luck with that, steward,” Paul said, raising his refilled glass. “And the best of luck to the newly betrothed.”

“Thank you,” Alexis said, raising his own glass. “Which brings me to a request. We would like to wed as soon as possible, possibly tomorrow, if we can. I must return to Station Aelon right away and there is no reason why Meredith should not accompany me.”

“Oh, that is much too soon,” Paul said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. “She will remain here so we can plan a proper wedding and invite all of the heads of station.”

“Understood, but the majority of them are already here,” Alexis said. “Why waste the opportunity, and time, to do this now? Stolt has already conferred with the other stewards and there have been no objections from a single station. Many will gladly remain an extra day to attend.”

“Conferred already, has he?” Paul asked, locking eyes with Stolt. “Well, aren’t you the busy little honey wasp.” Paul’s face was nothing but conflicted emotions until he sat up straight and pounded a fist on the table. “Tomorrow it is! We had a Blessing Day and now we’ll have a blessed day! Helios will shine on us for our show of love and devotion to the Dear Parent’s grace!”

No one at the table bought into the master’s feigned piety, knowing full well the man only praised Helios to keep the High Guardian and gatekeepers of the Way happy and content.

“Thank you, sire,” Alexis said as he raised his glass once more. “Your devotion is a testament to us all.” He downed the glass and then yawned. “But if you will excuse me, I believe I will rest a bit before I dive into preparations for the ceremony.”

“I’ll join you,” Meredith said as she stood up from the table. All eyes fell on her and she shook her head. “For the preparations. The master is capable of resting on his own.” She leaned in close so only he could hear. “Not that we would rest much if I joined you now.”

“Is your wound acting up?” Paul asked. “I hear the thing is stubborn and refuses to heal properly. Maybe you should give some extra credits to your station gatekeepers so they may pray harder. I have always found the gatekeepers willing to pray for near about anything when properly motivated.”

“I wouldn’t burden the gatekeepers with something so trivial as my scratch,” Alexis said, standing as well. “But feel free to pay yours on my behalf. An early wedding gift, if you will.” He extended his arm and Meredith wrapped hers about it. “I’ll walk you to your quarters on the way to mine. We can talk wedding plans.”

“A lovely idea,” Meredith said as he looked at her brother. “I shall dine in my rooms tonight, brother. So much work to do.”

“Of course,” Paul said. “I understand.”

* * *

The two royals lay entwined on the bed, sheets wrapped about their naked, sweaty bodies as they breathed hard from the hour’s exertion.

“We are going to use all of our passion up before I even get you back to my station,” Alexis laughed. “Then what will we have to look forward to?”

“Travel,” Meredith said. “To the primes.”

Alexis pushed up on his elbows and looked at her as she lay her head on his belly, mindful of his wound, and let her hair splash across his skin.

“The primes? Why would we want to visit there?” he asked.

“Because I love the primes,” Meredith said. “The wildness, the freedom. Isn’t your son on the planet? We could visit Alexis at his estate and then tour the rest of Aelon Prime, not to mention the leases you hold on Thraen Prime. I can show you some wondrous sights from my homeland.”

“Homeland,” Alexis said, letting the word roll about his tongue. “Such a strange thing to say since there hasn’t been a royal born on the planet in millennia.”

“Well, maybe one day there will be,” Meredith said. “Our children could be born there. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Our children?” Alexis asked then smiled. “Yes, our children. I forget how much younger than me you are. You have such an old and wise soul for a woman that hasn’t even seen her thirtieth birthday.”

“You won’t see your next birthday if you ever use the word ‘old’ when describing any part of me again,” Meredith laughed, kissing his soft skin. “With that said, thank you. It’s nice to be appreciated for who I am instead of being perpetually treated like a child.”

“Why anyone would treat you as such is a mystery to me,” Alexis laughed. “Even when you were a child you insisted on being in charge. But then I’m sure that has always threatened your brother, hasn’t it?”

“Dear Helios, you have no idea,” Meredith laughed as she scooted up so her head could rest against Alexis’s shoulder. “I think the imbecile has always thought I would take the station from him, despite the fact that women cannot lay claim to the crown.”

“Such is the way of the system,” Alexis said then cried out as Meredith pinched his nipple.

“What you are supposed to say is that is something you will change on Station Aelon,” Meredith said.

“Change? Change what? The line of succession?” Alexis laughed after swatting her hand away. “No, that is not something I plan on tackling during my reign. The meeting of stewards would eject me out the airlock. They would never allow their daughters to take control of their estates.”

“Then only make it for the crown,” Meredith said. “Damn the stewards. They can let their spoiled sons keep the estates. But I believe any daughters I give you should at least be in consideration of the crown.”

“Hmmmm,” Alexis said. “That would mean Esther would become mistress upon my death. I’m not sure she’s suited for it.”

“Is Alexis?” Meredith asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but there are rumors of his less than regimented upbringing on Aelon Prime.”

“My sister is overseeing his education and making sure he is molded into a proper minor, ready for his duty as master one day,” Alexis replied.

“Yes, of course,” Meredith nodded. “Your sister…”

Alexis sighed. “Ignore the rumors, they are only that.”

“Who else handles Alexis’s schooling?” Meredith asked.

“The men of the estate,” Alexis said. “Specifically my old friend Corbin. At the very least they will teach him how to be a man. Prime men are not known for their coddling of anyone, even the women of the estate. It’s a rough life I have left my son in the care of, but a life that will build character at least.”

“But will it be the right kind of character?” Meredith asked, nuzzling her lips against his neck.

Alexis didn’t try for an answer since he had none to give.

* * *

Nobility, gentry, and even passengers lined the grand promenade that led from the main shuttle bay to the lift that would take the royal party up to the Surface and Castle Quent.

Meredith happily waved to the people that were her new subjects, a broad smile on her face and happy lift to her step. The cheers around her were exuberant and she was amazed at the extravagance of blossom petals and breen boles that were thrown in the air as she passed by. But she was also puzzled by the many passengers that pointed and chattered away, their eyes wide as they saw her dress.

“Did I dress too boldly?” Meredith asked, leaning in close to Alexis as they walked the long, wide passageway. “Why does everyone stare?”

“Look about you,” Alexis said. “Station Aelon is not known for its fashion sense. Despite providing some of the highest quality breen to the stations in the System, our tailors and designers have yet to match the sensibilities of Thraen, Ploerv, or even Klaerv. We are but simple folk, her in Aelon.”

“Simple yet dangerous,” Meredith replied. “Everyone knows that picking a fight with Station Aelon is not the wisest choice.”

“Do they?” Alexis smiled, feigning humility. “I didn’t know.”

“Oh, shut up,” Meredith said as she swatted his arm. “You know you are the tough guys in the System. It is whispered in parlors all about Station Thraen that you have weapons at your disposal that none of the other stations possess. Is it true?”

“Perhaps,” Alexis said. “But how about less talk of fighting and more talk of loving? I’m certainly ready to retire to Quent and get lost in her lusciousness for at least a week.”

“Only a week?” Meredith smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek which resulted in several rounds of loud cheers from the crowd. “I have lusciousness to last much longer than that.”

“Unfortunately, Stolt has only given me a week’s reprieve from the duties of master,” Alexis sighed. “Not that I expect him to wait even that long before interrupting us.”

“Well, if he does interrupt then he better knock first,” Meredith laughed. “Or he’ll get an eyeful of some of the private duties a master must see to.”

“Mmmm, I can hardly wait,” Alexis grinned.

* * *

Meredith looked about the quarters, a forced smile on her face.

“Do you approve?” Alexis asked.

“It’s quaint,” she replied.

“You mean, it’s Quent,” Alexis joked then saw the lack of enthusiasm that was his new bride’s response. “Sorry. Like I said, simple folk, including our lodgings.”

“Is the castle safe?” Meredith asked as she traced her finger along a long crack in the wall. “The place looks as if it will crumble with a hard sneeze. I don’t dare wonder what will happen if you take me to bed. Will the structure implode around us?”

“My father spent most of his life trying to redesign and rebuild Station Aelon,” Alexis said. “Yet he barely spent a moment’s thought on the royal lodgings.”

“I can see,” Meredith said then shook her head and smiled. “I apologize, Alexis, I’m being rude. Wherever we are together will be fine for me. We could live in the swamps of Aelon Prime and I would be content.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Alexis laughed. “You’d be miserable.”

“But you would be miserable right there with me, yes?” she asked. She began to undo a lace at her shoulder, but the knot was too snug. “Where are my ladies? I may need help with this.”

“I have sent your ladies away,” Alexis said. “We have the entire floor to ourselves. That way I can show you all the rooms without worry of being overheard.”

“All the rooms?” Meredith smiled. “How many are we talking about?”

“I can never quite recall,” Alexis said as he walked over and helped his wife with the knot that vexed her. “We’ll have to count them one by one as we go.”

“So our adventure begins at home, does it? And then when do we go down to the planet and visit the primes?”

“Are you that anxious to leave Station Aelon already?” Alexis freed the knot then began on the other shoulder, in a hurry to get Meredith free of the elaborate dress she wore. “Can we make plans for that after our week of bliss?”

“We will plan during the week,” Meredith said. “I will lie upon the bed, wrapped up in your arms, while we decide where exactly we will travel. I’ve never seen Flaen Prime and I hear it has incredible geysers of hot steam that erupt like clockwork. Wouldn’t that be fun to see?”

“You realize that I will have to run all plans by Steward Stolt, right?” Alexis sighed. “A master and mistress cannot just visit another station’s prime without there being an immense amount of bureaucratic fuss.”

“Oh, I know,” Meredith replied as the dress was finally freed from her shoulders and she was able to push it down over her chest, her hips, her legs. “But a mistress can wish, yes?”

“Yes,” Alexis said. “A mistress can always wish, and a master can always try to grant those wishes.”

“I like the way you think, husband,” Meredith said as she sauntered over towards the bed. “Can you guess what I’m thinking right now?”

“I have an idea,” Alexis said, following her over.

“Then perhaps you should put that idea into practice,” she responded as her undergarments were removed and tossed across the room. “You’re going to have to get those trousers off first, though.”

“Of course, my lady,” Alexis said as he took a deep bow. “I live to serve.”

“We’ll see about that,” Meredith said. “Words are good, but actions are much, much better.”

She drew back the comforter and climbed into bed, pulling the bedding up to her chest, but not over. Alexis kicked his trousers off and hurried to her, jumping onto the bed like a teenager and not the middle-aged monarch that he was.

Chapter Eight

The two towheaded children dashed between the furniture, dodging comfy looking breen chairs, climbing over the long lounges and couches that were spread throughout the wide, open room. They laughed and called to one another, playfully taunting and teasing as they traded positions on who was being chased and who was doing the chasing.

“Thomas! Eliza!” Meredith called as she walked into the room. “There you two are! I have been calling on the intercom for ten minutes now! Lunch is ready!”

“Yes, Mother,” the siblings replied.

“We’ll be right there,” Thomas said, the older at six years.

“I want juice!” Eliza stated, her hands on her five year old hips. “Lots of juice!’

“Come eat lunch and you’ll—” Meredith started then stopped when she turned and saw the state of the intercom console on the wall.

Wires and polybreen plastic littered the floor, having fallen from the gaping hole in the wall where all of the components should have been.

“What happened here?” Meredith asked, her voice low and menacing. “I expect an answer this very second!”

Eliza looked from her mother to the hole in the wall to her older brother, then burst out crying. Meredith rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her son.

“Explain,” she demanded.

“We were just playing,” Thomas said. “I told her not to throw it, but she did and then I ducked and it hit the intercom and then it broke and all the pieces feel to the ground and we didn’t say anything because we wanted to keep playing and then we forgot and now you’re here yelling at us and Eliza is crying and I have to go pee.”

Meredith struggled not to smile. She kept her lips firmly pressed together until she had it under control.

“And what did your sister throw at you that could break hard polybreen?”

Thomas glanced over towards the corner of the large room and Meredith followed his gaze.

“Oh, Thomas! No! Do you have any idea how angry your father will be over this?”

“Angry over what?” Alexis asked as he walked into the room, his breen environmental suit covered in dirt and pollen. “What did my little devils do this time?”

“Alexis,” Meredith frowned. “Look at you. You are tracking that in everywhere.”

“It’s the prime, dear,” Alexis smiled. “This is where we get to be dirty and nasty and not worry about decorum.”

“I could give a grendt’s ass about decorum,” Meredith said. The children snickered at her use of “ass”, but she held up a finger and they quieted instantly. “I care about having you track mud all over the compound. As you have said, this is the prime, and not only do we have to deal with dirty and nasty, we have to clean it up ourselves.”

“You have four servants, the children each have one, I have six, and that doesn’t even count the kitchen staff or maintenance crews,” Alexis frowned. “You shouldn’t be cleaning anything up yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” Meredith scowled. “You’re used to this place. On the Thraen Prime estate, the compound is kept spotless at all times. Just because we were planetside never meant we sacrificed comfort or hygiene. You and I need to sit down and talk about some changes that need to be made.”

“You’ve never complained before,” Alexis replied, eyeing his wife. “What’s different this time?”

“Nothing,” Meredith said. “This is the third time we’ve come down from the station since we’ve been married and it is time to civilize this place.”

“Ugh. Civilize?” Alexis the younger said as he walked into the room and stood next to his father.

At twenty years old, he was a couple of inches taller than his father, but not quite as broad. The same fair looks, but with a dangerous twinkle of mischief in his eyes, Minor Alexis had been turning heads for years. Rumors quickly spread of his less than discrete exploits amongst the miners’ daughters on the lease holdings on Thraen Prime. There were also a few rumors that said exploits may have been made up to hide certain dalliances that the nobility and gentry preferred not to speak of.

“Civilizing the prime would be like trying to pump air into space,” Minor Alexis laughed. “You can try all you like, but you’ll never get anywhere.”

“You are supposed to be on a cutter to The Way Prime,” Alexis the senior growled. “You know how dangerous it is for the station to be left without a regent in place.”

“Cousin Stolt is up there running things,” Minor Alexis said. “Don’t you trust Cousin Stolt to handle the affairs of the crown while you are gone?”

Alexis and Meredith shared a quick glance that Minor Alexis didn’t catch.

“I trust you to handle the affairs of the crown,” Alexis responded. “That is why I appointed you regent and you were supposed to be on a shuttle rocketing up to Station Aelon! If you miss your window then it will be at least another week before you can leave!”

“Then it’s another week,” Minor Alexis shrugged. “I hate it up in the orbiting death trap, anyway. I much prefer the land down here with all the wide open spaces, huge breen fields, vast seas, and dark, scary mines.”

He leaned down and wiggled his fingers at his half-siblings, making them giggle. Then he stood and clapped his father on the shoulder.

“Plus, I want you to meet my dearest friend,” Minor Alexis said. “Gannot? Where are you, brother?”

“Sorry,” a young man said as he hurried into the room, a slice of pie in his hands and berry juice running down his chin. He wasn’t as tall as Minor Alexis, but he was obviously muscular and athletic. Dressed in a bright yellow tunic with trousers that seemed to be made of multi-colored patches instead of whole cloth, the young man obviously cared about his dress much more than he cared about his eating habits. “Found myself to be a little peckish and swung by the galley. Are these your parents?”

“They are,” Minor Alexis said, wiping the juice from Gannot’s chin and licking his finger. “This is my father, Master of Station Aelon, Alexis the First.”

“An honor, sire,” Gannot said, taking an exaggerated bow. “I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you.”

“Have you?” Alexis replied. “Because I have heard nothing about you.”

“Ally? Have you not informed your father of all the adventures we’ve had over the years?” Gannot asked, his face contorted with mock pain. “And to think I have called you brother for this long and it has meant nothing.”

“Oh, shush,” Minor Alexis said. He turned back to his father. “I’ve told you about Gannot. Remember when I crashed the skids on Thraen Prime last fall? That was me and Gannot. Oh, and the time I was caught playing a joke on the gatekeepers here in the compound? Us again.”

“Such an amazing joke that was going to be,” Gannot sighed. “We spent two weeks planning it. Had half the staff in on it.”

“Which is why we were found out,” Minor Alexis said. “Too many fingers in the pie.”

“I do love pie.” Gannot smiled, his teeth and lips dark purple. “Don’t you, sire?”

Alexis glared at the brash young man that stood before him, pie juice once again escaping his lips to find its way onto his chin. Minor Alexis started to reach for it, but Alexis the senior slapped the young man’s hand away.

“I do love pie, Gannot,” Alexis growled. “But I know the proper time and place to eat it.”

“Ouch,” Gannot laughed. “I know a reprimand when I hear one. Helios knows I’ve had enough of them in my short, fun-filled life.”

“A life that could end up much shorter if you are not careful, you Thraenish bas—”

“I’m Mistress Meredith,” Meredith said, interrupting and stepping between her husband and the brash youth. “Also, Minoress of Thraen. It is good to see another Thraenish face again. What sector of the station are you from?”

“Me, your highness?” Gannot asked as he took the mistress’s hand and kissed it gently. “Oh, I’m from the prime. Born and raised on the planet. My father is the steward assigned to the lease holdings. I’m sort of a hybrid, if you will. I’m Thraenish, but technically, while Aelon holds the leases on that part of Thraen Prime, I am also Aelish. A man with two stations.”

“Your father is Steward DuChaer?” Alexis asked, surprised by the revelation. “I would think you a miner’s son with the way you act.”

“Everything is much freer down here on the planet,” Gannot said, ignoring the insult. “You learn to go with it or get left behind. And when you can’t breathe the atmosphere, swim in the water, or descend into a Vape mine without special equipment, you come to understand that there are more important things to life than which teacup to use during lunch.”

“Yet, I have managed to navigate both worlds,” Meredith said, giving her husband a reproachful look. “Alexis, dear? How about you clean up for lunch and join us in the banquet hall?”

“I believe I am better needed—” Alexis began.

“I’ll escort Minor Alexis and young Gannot to the meal,” Meredith said. “It’ll give me time to get to know my fellow Thraen. Hurry along now.”

Alexis stared at her, but when she didn’t budge or even blink he realized that he didn’t stand a chance of arguing the point.

“Fine,” Alexis said. “I’ll be along shortly. Don’t wait for me. Feel free to begin eating.”

“Of course, dear,” Meredith said. “Come along children.”

Thomas and Eliza, glad that their mishap was completely forgotten, bolted from the room and sprinted down the passageway towards the banquet hall. Meredith held up an arm and looked at Gannot. The young man just smiled at her until Minor Alexis coughed and cleared his throat.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Gannot laughed. “Forgive me, your highness. My wild habits are hard to break. There are some women on this planet that would crack my nose and snap my arm for offering to escort them.”

“I am not one of those women,” Meredith said. “As you will learn while we get acquainted.”

“Alexis? A brief word?” Alexis said, his eyes locked onto his son and heir. He saw Meredith’s face start to cloud over and he bowed. “Very brief, my love, I promise.”

“Very well,” Meredith said, pointing towards the door. “Shall we, Gannot?”

“It’s my pleasure,” Gannot replied, giving Minor Alexis a wink as he escorted the mistress from the room.

“Father, I—” Minor Alexis started, but was quickly interrupted by a slap across the face.

“When I tell you to be on a shuttle, I expect you to be on a shuttle,” Alexis snarled low. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Father,” Minor Alexis replied instantly. “It won’t happen again.”

“No, it will not,” Alexis said. “As soon as lunch is finished you will be on our fastest cutter to Way Prime. You’ll still have time to make the shuttle before the planet rotates and we lose our scheduled departure window. I am not asking the Thraenish to let you ride on theirs to Station Thraen and then take a shuttle from there to Aelon. Do you know how humiliating that would be?”

Minor Alexis prudently stayed silent.

“Eat your lunch, say goodbye to your...friend, and then get your ass on the cutter,” Alexis said, turning his back on his son as he walked from the room.

“Father!” Minor Alexis cried. “About Gannot…”

“What about him?” Alexis asked, whirling on his son. “What? Out with it!”

“I would request that he accompany me to the station,” Minor Alexis replied. “I don’t really know any of the stewards there except for Cousin Stolt and it would be good to have someone I trust around in case I need counsel.”

“Counsel? From that roughneck? I think not,” Alexis laughed cruelly.

“No, no, not in an official capacity,” Minor Alexis pushed. “Just as a sounding board. So I can think things through out loud.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I want his sort on Station Aelon,” Alexis said.

“His sort?” Minor Alexis asked. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure I know,” Alexis replied. “Nor do I want to.”

The two Alexises stared at each other, old eyes to young eyes, locked in a power play that had been repeated by fathers and sons for generations.

“Fine,” Alexis conceded. “The Thraen can accompany you. But he does not attend any official meetings and he is not there in any diplomatic capacity. He is your friend only and will be expected to behave himself and tame that prime streak in him. If I get one hint of impropriety, I will order the royal guard to shoot him out an airlock.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Father,” Minor Alexis bowed. “Thank you.”

“Fah,” Alexis grumbled and waved his son away. “Let me go get cleaned up as your mother has ordered.”

“Step-mother,” Minor Alexis corrected.

“Mother,” Alexis replied. “The woman married to me is your mother and she will be respected as such.”

“Of course,” Minor Alexis said. “Better get cleaned up then, before Mother gets upset.”

Alexis pursed his lips and shook his head, but said nothing else as he turned and strode down the passageway. Minor Alexis watched him go then burst out in a huge grin and hurried towards the banquet hall.

* * *

“Do you think he will be alright with that Thraen?” Alexis asked as he lay in bed with Meredith, a breen wax candle burning and flickering on the table beside them. “There is something about him I do not like. And did you see what he was wearing? What insane style is that?”

“You’re talking about the trousers, aren’t you?” Meredith asked.

“Yes, I’m talking about the bloody trousers!” Alexis snapped then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“The patched trousers are the latest trend in the court of Station Thraen,” Meredith said. “They may look silly, but apparently each patch is carefully placed so that the positions have some sort of meaning.”

“Meaning? What meaning?” Alexis asked.

“That I don’t know, my love,” Meredith said. “I’m an old woman now and not privy to the secrets of the youth.”

“Old woman, my ass,” Alexis laughed as he ran his hand up and down Meredith’s thigh. “You are barely older than thirty. I’m the old one in this marriage, not you.”

“Thirty is old,” Meredith sighed. “If you were to pass, Helios forbid, I would not be much of a catch. Not with much younger and firmer examples running about the stations. I’m afraid two children have ruined my firmness.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Alexis laughed as he rolled on top of her. “Any man would be lucky to have you, with your firmness.” He kissed her and then rolled back to his side of the bed.

“That’s it? A kiss?” Meredith asked, this time rolling on top of him. “We have been on the prime for six days now and we have yet to consummate this trip.”

“What about in the third floor closest the afternoon we arrived?” Alexis asked as he lay under his wife, his arms pinned by her hands. “I’d say that consummated things quite nicely.”

“That was for you, dear,” Meredith said. “I knew you wouldn’t rest until you’d gotten in me. Tonight, my love, tonight is for me.” Her hands found him and she smiled as she gave him a squeeze. “And that is for me, as well. You better be up to the task, dearest of loves, because I had a quick nap earlier and I’m rested and ready to get my turn.”

“Oh, the torture you put me through,” Alexis said as he leaned his head up and nipped at her lips.

Meredith laughed and bent down, her mouth parted and tongue wet. But they were interrupted by a loud knock at the door before they could go any further. Alexis sighed and Meredith swore as she rolled off him and he swung his legs from the bed, looking for his trousers.

“Hold on!” Alexis snapped as he stood and found his trousers peeking from under the bed.

He hop-footed into them as he made his way over to the royal bedchamber door. He winced slightly as the skin around his ever present wound stretched tight. He stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath, steadied his anger, and then yanked open the door.

“This better be good,” Alexis snapped.

“Sire,” a guard said. “We are getting reports of some disturbances on the lease holdings. A message was received by the communication system that Thraen troops have moved into the region and are demanding back taxes.”

“Back taxes?” Alexis asked, truly puzzled. “What in Helios’s name could they be thinking of? We pay no taxes on the lease holdings. That’s what the lease payments are for!”

“Yes, sire,” the guard said, bowing. “I am just relaying what I have been told.”

“Fine, right, yes,” Alexis growled. “I’ll be to the communications room shortly. Let me get dressed.”

“Yes, sire,” the guard said as he hurried away.

Alexis looked over his shoulder at his obviously disappointed wife.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he walked over and found his tunic. “I’m sure it’s some general or commander trying to make a name for himself. I’ll get it sorted out and be back right away. No falling asleep. I promise to perform my husbandly duties immediately upon my return.”

“Yes, well, don’t be surprised if I get started without you,” Meredith smirked. “A mistress cannot be left waiting.”

“I’ll hurry,” Alexis grinned. “That is a promise.”

* * *

The paper in his hands shook as he tried to keep his boiling rage from spilling over. Alexis read the message for a fifth time before wadding the paper up and tossing it across the meeting room.

“What in Helios’s name is the man thinking?” Alexis shouted. “Taxing me? Taxing the Master of Station Aelon? It’s never been done! A master cannot tax another master!”

“He is not considering you a master, but a tenant just like any other lease holder,” Stolt said, having just arrived on the planet. “He does have the High Guardian’s approval. You can see by the official seal that—”

“Oh, fuck off, Stolt!” Alexis roared. “That whore of a gatekeeper puts his official seal on anything someone pays him enough for! He’d stamp my cock if I gave him enough credits! I could have the only cock in the system that is ordained by the High Guardian! Only the Dear Parent would have a more holy cock than mine!”

“Does Helios have a cock?” Meredith asked, smiling. “I never really thought about it before. Do you think it glows?”

“Not now, wife,” Alexis snapped. “This is not the time for jokes or lev—”

“Oh, shut up, Alexis,” Meredith said. “This is the time for jokes because this entire situation is one giant joke!”

“Excuse me, your highness, but I think it is more complicated than mere humor,” Stolt said. “Don’t you agree, gentlemen?”

The other men seated at the table looked from Stolt to Mistress Meredith then to the master, who was busy pacing back and forth, his anger blinding him to half of what was happening in the room.

“I believe the mistress may not grasp the scope of the dilemma,” a man said. Younger than Alexis and Stolt, the man kept his shoulders bunched and head down in order to seem subservient at all times.

The prime administrator, Jorben Tallaly was tasked with making sure all Aelish planetside operations ran smoothly and efficiently. That included the lease holdings on Thraen Prime. His body language gave the impression he knew he was not doing his duty.

“General Herlect is very serious about the payment of the taxes, sire,” Tallaly said, turning his attention to the master. “He does have sufficient forces to take and shut down our operations on Thraen Prime.”

“But he won’t do it,” Meredith said. “I know Staunchton better than anyone in this room. My cousin is a taint. Pure and simple. He’s always wanted claim to the Thraen crown, but being one step removed from it, he’s decided that he’ll kill and blow things up instead. The silly twerp has always been a sadist and a bully. He killed one of my trollen birds when I was a child, just to make me cry. Punch him in the nuts and he’ll crumple like any man.”

“We can hardly punch the commander of the Thraen Prime forces in the nuts,” Stolt said.

“Well, not sitting there like a lump, you can’t,” Meredith said. “You’d actually have to get up off your old, fat ass to do it.”

“Mer,” Alexis warned. “Please.”

“Oh, don’t Mer me,” Meredith responded as she stood up and looked the men in the eyes.

Besides Stolt and Tallaly, there was Steward Hylora, a thin man of indiscriminate age; Steward Prochan, a young man who had just taken his birthright after his father had fallen from a balcony one drunken night; and Steward Exchester, a man as round as he was tall.

“I may be Mistress of Station Aelon, but I am also Minoress of Station Thraen, don’t forget,” Meredith snapped. “You men sit here and wonder what Staunchton’s motivations are when you should be focusing on my brother’s. Paul is toying with our cousin, making him feel important and worth something other than a babysitter for a hunk of rock stuck on a planet worth nothing except for Vape and breen.”

“Uh, those two items are quite important, your highness,” Steward Exchester said. “Breen is a valuable commodity that can be made into—”

“Shut up, Exchester,” Alexis said. “My wife knows what breen is and she knows how important Vape is. What she’s trying to say is that Master Paul of Thraen wants something other than taxes and probably has not let his cousin know that yet. Am I right, dear?”

“You are, as always,” Meredith said. “My cousin thinks he’s collecting taxes when he’s actually just a distraction from the real goal.”

“Which is what, your highness?” Stolt asked.

“Marriage,” Meredith said, shocking even her husband with her answer. “I still have my sources in the Thraen court. Paul feels that the lease holdings on Thraen Prime are too important to be in constant negotiations. He wants a more permanent arrangement. I believe he’s willing to give them as part of a dowry, with the explicit precept that a Thraenish team mine the land and proceeds are sent to Station Aelon, not raw materials.”

She laughed at the looks on the men’s faces.

“Oh, close your mouths, you’ll collect honey wasps,” Meredith smiled. “My brother loves to scheme and figure out a way to skim off the top. He can’t do it to the Thraen stewards or he’ll risk an uprising, so that leaves Thraen Prime, specifically the land leased to Aelon. Are you seriously telling me you never saw this coming?”

“No, we did not,” Stolt replied. “But, whether true or not, it does bring up a topic I wanted to talk about.”

“Don’t we have enough topics to deal with?” Alexis growled.

“This touches on what the mistress has said,” Stolt replied. “It is in regards to the minor, your son.”

“I assume you mean Alexis and not Thomas,” Alexis replied.

“I do, sire,” Stolt nodded. “As you know I was with the young man for a week until you called me down here. I have to say I witnessed some rather, well, disturbing behavior.”

“He’s a spirited lad,” Alexis said as he stopped his pacing and took his seat next to his wife. “What trouble did he get into?”

“That list would be too long for the time we have available, sire,” Stolt said. “Let me just say that all troubles the minor may have placed himself in were always with the company of that young man, Gannot DuChaer.”

“Yes, they are fast friends,” Alexis sneered. “And it is not a friendship I condone. I’ll have the Thraen removed from the station as soon as I return there.”

“I’m afraid the damage may already be done, sire,” Stolt said. “The DuChaer boy has his hooks in Minor Alexis. And I do not believe the minor cares or is inclined to remove said hooks.”

“Sycophants come and go, Cousin,” Alexis smiled at the steward. “You of all people should know that.”

“Right you are, your highness,” Stolt replied. “It’s just that, well, I believe this is more than sycophancy. The two young men’s relationship may be more complicated than that.”

“More complicated?” Alexis asked. “What in Helios’s name are you babbling about?”

“Oh, knock it off, Alexis,” Meredith said. “Take the blinders from your eyes and admit that you know well and true what Stolt is saying. Alexis and that DuChaer boy are more than friends. They are lovers and you know exactly how dangerous that can be.”

“Lovers…” Alexis said, sighing deeply. “I may have suspected, but I wasn’t sure.”

“I’m not condemning the minor in any way,” Stolt said. “That is up to Helios to do, but the meeting of the stewards, not to mention the meeting of the passengers, will not stand for a queer master. I am above such judgment, but others are not.”

“You son needs to stop slapping blades or we’ll lose the station,” Meredith said, causing everyone, except Alexis to gasp. “Oh, don’t be prude or act like this is the first time two men have ever had a lustful relationship. Please, I’m from Thraen. Half the men there prefer cock to twat most days of the week.”

“Dear Helios,” Steward Prochan exclaimed. “Such language! And from a mistress!”

“Oh, grow up, Prochan,” Meredith said. “Everyone knows your own brother likes the rod. Don’t act all offended.”

“Mer, stop,” Alexis said softly, touching his wife’s arm. “They get the point.”

“But the point, sire, is that the minor’s proclivities put the station at risk,” Stolt said. “If Mistress Meredith is right, and I have no reason to doubt she is, then a marriage between stations may be just what the crown needs. The minor gets a wife, and shows the stations he’s not what he is suspected to be, and we get long term stability with our lease holdings on Thraen Prime.”

“We were supposed to have stability when I married Meredith!” Alexis snapped.

“Yes, well, that marriage was not of Master Paul’s choosing,” Stolt said. “It was your personal choice, sire.”

“At a significant cost to the crown, I know, I know,” Alexis sighed. “Master Paul will want terms that benefit Thraen and not Aelon. Who knows the amount of revenue that will be lost when he takes control? And why would we let him do that, anyway? If his daughter is to marry my son then he should be giving me the lease holdings as part of the dowry!”

“Precisely, sire,” Stolt said. “Don’t worry about the details of the transaction. I will make sure that, in the long run, Station Aelon comes out ahead and profits from the arrangement.”

“Transaction? Arrangement?” Meredith scowled. “You men have no idea what it’s like to be a woman in this age. Even one like me, born into royalty and privilege, is nothing more than a bargaining chip. My niece could be a prize shaow for all you care. And don’t forget that fact, gentlemen, that the woman you are negotiating for is my niece. She is my blood, more so than Minor Alexis.”

“Meredith!” Alexis snapped. “You forget your place!”

“And you forget your heart!” she snapped back. “Look to it, Alexis. Make sure that this decision I can see you are about to make will not crush two souls all for the price of a piece of land.”

“Only Helios need worry about the souls of royals,” Alexis replied. “We are here to do our duty, nothing more.”

“Nothing more…” Meredith repeated and trailed off. Then she slapped her hands on the table. “Well, I can see my counsel has been used up. I’ll let you men get to work on the trading of human beings. Just remember that you need a plan for when it all falls apart. I have been lucky with my marriage, but I doubt my niece will feel the same way. Good night.”

* * *

“I’m sorry for that,” Alexis said as he climbed into bed.

“Sorry for which?” Meredith replied as she scooted away from him and tucked the covers around her body, making it quite known she had no interest in royal affections. “I counted at least three offenses that should have me dragging your ass out of this bed and into the passageway.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Alexis laughed and reached for her, but was rebuffed by a nail rake to the forearm. “Ow!”

“What terms did you decide on?” Meredith asked.

“A quarter million credits for a dowry,” Alexis said. “As well as Station Aelon keeps the current lease holdings on Thraen Prime in perpetuity. With future options of expansion.”

“Future options?” Meredith asked, her interest piqued despite her irritation with her husband. “What future options?”

“Permanent title bestowed upon Alexis’s heirs,” Alexis smiled. “They will be of Thraenish blood, after all.”

“So despite what may happen between Alexis and my niece, their children will be the title holders?” Meredith laughed, reached over and grabbed Alexis’s arm, tugging him to her. “I forget just how smart you are sometimes.”

“Whether the rumors about my son are true or not, it won’t matter,” Alexis grinned as he felt his wife’s warm body press against his own. “If for whatever reason the marriage doesn’t work out, as long as there are heirs, then Station Aelon will always have a claim to the lease holdings on Thraen Prime.”

“If my brother agrees,” Meredith said as she climbed on top of Alexis.

“When I’m only asking for a quarter of a million credits as a dowry?” Alexis laughed. “If Paul doesn’t agree, his advisors will force him to. Your brother likes his lavish lifestyle and a proper dowry would hurt the treasury enough that he’d have to make some cutbacks on his daily feasts and barrels of wine.”

“Which the fat shaow would never do,” Meredith said. “Yet another reason I am glad I married a man of action and not sloth. Dear Helios, could you imagine what my life would be like with one of those layabout masters or stewards from the other stations? I’d probably have hips wider than a cutter and an ass as big as Thraen Prime itself.”

“Mmmmm, I might let you do that,” Alexis said, his hands gripping her hips then her ass. “More for me then.”

“I’d crush you with one thrust,” Meredith said, leaning over him and kissing his lips. “Because I certainly wouldn’t slow down or take it easy on you.”

“I would expect not,” Alexis said. “That wouldn’t be you at all.”

* * *

“You are forcing me to do something I am not ready for, Father,” Minor Alexis said as three attendants busied themselves about the young man, making sure his trousers were free of any dirt and his tunic was perfectly tucked about his torso. “I have so much more to do before I settle down and marry.”

“I was several years younger than you when I was married,” Alexis said, as he sat sipping gelberry wine and watched the attendants make the final alterations and adjustments to his son’s wedding outfit. “Getting married doesn’t mean your life ends. In many ways it actually starts.”

“So the occasional dalliance is permitted?” Minor Alexis grinned. “Did you ever stray from Mother?”

“From Eliza? Helios no,” Alexis said. “I’m not that type of husband. I was lucky with your mother and found a woman that I loved with all of my heart.”

“And my current mother?” Minor Alexis asked. “Has the royal eye perhaps realized the amount of eligible beauties that grace our station?”

“Again, I have been lucky,” Alexis said. “Meredith is the only woman for me. I can barely keep up, to be honest.”

“No need to explain,” Minor Alexis said. “Really, don’t. That’s something I don’t need to hear.”

“What about you, son?” Alexis asked. “Any beautiful young ladies catch your eye? Not that I would officially approve of any extramarital affairs, since that could undermine the marriage agreements and the crown, but I know a hot blooded youth like you must have his eye looking about.”

The three attendants tried to look as if they weren’t listening intently, but their faces fell far short of feigned indifference.

“There may be someone,” Minor Alexis answered. “But it wouldn’t be a union possible, whether officially or unofficially.”

“A commoner?” Alexis asked. “One of the passenger girls? Your late Uncle Derrick was known for his trolling the decks for a taste of passenger meat. He once worked his way through an entire sector, going from woman to woman, until I think half those decks knew his privates intimately.”

“Not a passenger,” Minor Alexis replied. “But not one of the station’s nobility, either.”

The three attendants shared a look, which Alexis caught instantly, causing him to set his glass down harder than he intended.

“Leave us,” he ordered and they scurried from the room without question.

Minor Alexis stood there on the wide, tailor’s stool and waited for what was to come.

“You know you are the heir to one of the most powerful stations in the system, right?” Alexis asked as he sat there, his fingers steepled, his eyes boring into his son. “Everything you do, every word you say, everything you wear, you eat, you drink, you sing—all of it is scrutinized down to the most insignificant detail. You do not lead a private life, son. Nor will you ever lead a private life. Image is what counts with us royals, almost more than actual substance.”

“Yes, I have been made aware of this my entire life, Father,” Minor Alexis replied. “Auntie Melinda drilled it into me before she left for The Way. As did Corbin, that old crippled souse. Always telling me that I wasn’t living up to my potential, that I needed to take more interest in affairs of station and less interest in racing skids across the prime or even the science of agriculture.” Minor Alexis changed his voice into a gruff, old drunk’s. “Alexis! Stop dreaming of tilling soil and playing farmer! You’re going to be master one day, so Helios damn act like it!”

“You sound just like him,” Alexis sighed. “I regretted sending him to the prime estate with you, but he was the only one I could trust.”

“Yes, that’s what he reminded of me also,” Minor Alexis said. “Not to knock the poor sod. I did learn how to fight with every type of blade invented, plus shoot a sling better than any Aelon master.”

“Is that so?” Alexis laughed. “Then why do you refuse to join in the tournaments the stewards host?”

“Boredom,” Minor Alexis said. “I’d either win outright, they’d let me win outright, or I’d lose and look like a fool. The last two aren’t acceptable to me, and the first one is an almost foregone conclusion. I know the outcomes and I don’t care for any of them. I’d rather sit and drink and watch the others fight for their supposed honor.”

“That isn’t a bad analysis,” Alexis responded. “I give you points for that.”

“Do you? How generous.”

“You know, I don’t have to be,” Alexis snapped. “I could just shove you out that door right now and make this ceremony happen today. I wouldn’t be the first upset royal parent that accelerated a wedding. It would be awkward for all involved, but then it would be done.”

“The minoress and her father just arrived today,” Minor Alexis said. “I would guess Master Paul doesn’t like to be hurried for any reason. You’d risk the agreement, and all the hard work Cousin Stolt has put into this, just to prove a point to me? I don’t think so.”

“No, I don’t think so either,” Alexis said. “But I always have the option. As long as I am master, I will be in charge of your future.”

“Then when you are gone, no one is in charge of my future except me,” Minor Alexis said.

“I’ll let you believe that,” Alexis smirked. “As an early wedding gift.”

“Again, how generous,” Minor Alexis said then looked down at his clothing. “Do you think we could call the attendants back in so I can get out of these blasted garments? While I do enjoy the prints, the cut is riding up my craw something awful.”

“Of course, son,” Alexis said. “We wouldn’t want your craw to be uncomfortable just before your wedding. An uncomfortable craw isn’t going to produce heirs. That’s a solid, royal fact.”

* * *

Meredith gripped her husband’s hand as he sat there in a huff. The entire great hall of Station Aelon was lined with The Burdened, a faction of The Way that Alexis was not exactly fond of, especially since some of their members had tried to kill him, and almost killed the very woman that gripped his hand like a vise.

“I should have put my foot down,” Alexis whispered. “Seeing those holy thugs just makes me want to grab a long blade and kill every one of them. I could do it, too. I still have what it takes to kill.”

“In here, yes,” Meredith said, tapping the master’s chest. “But I think the rest of your body would disagree. When was the last time you sparred with anyone from the royal guard?”

“I don’t know,” Alexis sulked. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been two years, love,” Meredith said, trying not to smirk. “You haven’t touched a blade, other than what’s between your legs, in two years. You’d be on your ass before you even got your blade out of its sheath.”

“Oh, I’d take a couple with me,” Alexis insisted. “A warrior never forgets how to fight.”

“No, they just forget they no longer can fight,” Meredith said. “So be quiet about it all. The Burdened aren’t going away, not until the High Guardian leaves the station. And the High Guardian isn’t leaving until after the ceremony.”

“Right after the ceremony,” Alexis said. “Since his holiness is needed elsewhere in the System. Would it kill the man to stay for the reception and feast? Maybe bless some of the nobility and gentry for me? The political capital generated from that would last me the rest of my reign.”

“So now you want him to stay?” Meredith said, beyond exasperated. “You are a tangle of contradictions, Master Alexis Teirmont. Good thing I like working out knots.”

“All rise for his Holiness, the Pontiff of the One True System and all systems under Helios’s watch, the only human being deemed worthy enough to protect the portal to the planet and gateway to the primes! All rise for the High Guardian!”

The entire hall stood and turned towards the entryway. Instead of wearing plain, drab robes as most of the gatekeepers wore, the man that walked through was dressed in brilliant colors of varying iridescence and shades. Spotlights placed strategically throughout the hall shone down from above, creating an almost blinding, dazzling effect of reflections from the pontiff’s attire.

As well as wearing the head to toe show robes, the High Guardian also wore a hat that was nearly as tall as he was. Attendants walked behind the man, staves in their hands; ready to push the hat back into place should it shift or start to fall. Clutched in the man’s hand was a staff of glass that swirled with contained Vape. All that attended the ceremony were wealthy enough to appreciate the cost of the staff. Containing Vape that was not compressed was not an easy task to accomplish and the artisan who made the staff must have charged a fortune.

Or donated it to The Way, as was usually the tradition.

“Be seated,” the High Guardian said once he had made his way to the front of the hall, climbed the dais, and turned to address the crowd. “Helios blesses you all and thanks you for your attendance to this most holy of ceremonies.”

The hall echoed with the sounds of shuffling feet and rustling clothing. Many a cloak and dress had been brought out of storage, more than likely expanded to fit the increased girths of the owners, and were still stiff from their cleaning. While official galas and banquets were common in the Aelon court, nothing so special had been held in Castle Quent for some time.

“Let the betrothed walk to me,” the High Guardian said, his voice more a reedy rasp than the commanding tenor one would expect from such a figure.

He was severely old, and rumored to have been undergoing treatments for various life threatening illnesses, but he still stood tall and clutched the Vape staff in a grip that showed he could deliver a blow or two if needed.

“If he dies here then Helios will never forgive me,” Alexis whispered to his wife, who in turn swatted his arm.

“Don’t even say such a thing, Alexis,” she hissed, causing more than a few eyes to turn her way.

Eyes such as her brother’s, who sat across the aisle from her, his wife Carmnella by his side. The Master of Station Thraen nodded to his younger sister then turned his attention back to the High Guardian. Knowing full well that Meredith held no real love for him, Paul had stepped onto Station Aelon with nothing but a formal attitude to the whole proceeding as if he were merely attending the signing of some new declaration and not his daughter’s wedding.

The High Guardian droned on for close to twenty minutes, espousing the greatness of Helios and why all beings owed their immortal souls to the Dear Parent. He paused for a moment, giving everyone the impression he was ready to move onto the actual nuptials, but it turned out he was only thirsty and once given a drink of water he continued on for another twenty minutes.

Alexis had to guess that the man read half of the Ledger before he finally clacked the end of his staff onto the dais and called out that the bride and groom be brought before him so he might bless them with Helios’s permission to marry.

“Alexis Teirmont, heir to the crown of Station Aelon, do you swear before Helios that you choose to marry this woman of your own free will?” the High Guardian asked.

Minor Alexis stood there for a split-second, a split-second that everyone in the great hall noticed instantly, then puffed out his chest, grabbed the young minoress’s hands, and said, “Yes. Before Helios, I swear it.”

There were more than a few loud exhalations throughout the hall.

“And do you, Bella Herlect, Minoress of Station Thraen, do swear before Helios that you choose to marry this man of your own free will?”

“Yes, before Helios, I swear it,” Minoress Bella replied immediately.

Alexis and Meredith looked on as the couple performed their duties and recited their memorized vows, most of which were straight from the Ledger, but some were surprisingly original. Both the master and mistress had to wonder if the young minoress had heard any of the rumors about her almost husband. If she had, she never showed any indication to either of them when they spoke briefly at the welcome dinner.

By the time the exchanging of the rings, crowns, scepters, cloaks, armbands, and belts had taken place, Alexis was close to falling asleep. Meredith kept nudging him, making sure he didn’t snort or snore as his eyes refused to stay open. The High Guardian frowned as he looked down to see the master’s head start to nod, but he didn’t increase his tempo one bit and continued the litany of royal ancestors from both stations that would now be joined as one with the union of the minor and minoress.

“With all of Helios’s love and trust, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the High Guardian stated finally. He snapped his fingers and a long privacy screen was brought before the newlyweds, blocking them from the view of the entire hall. “You may now kiss.”

The hall waited, all completely silent to see if they could hear anything from the lips of the two royals, but the screen was quickly removed and by the looks on the minor’s and minoress’s faces, some had to wonder if they kissed at all.

The High Guardian stepped down from the dais and looked at Master Alexis then Master Paul.

“The Way thanks you for your generosity today, masters,” he said. “Your endowments will help fund many a holy endeavor. Bless your reigns forever.”

The masters bowed to the pontiff as he made his way down the aisle and back out of the great hall. As soon as he was gone then the newlyweds turned and looked at the assembled guests. Minor Alexis held out his hand and Minoress Bella took it willingly, if not completely enthusiastically. Music started up and the two walked down the aisle, heads held high, eyes forward until they too left the hall.

“Shall we?” Alexis said as he looked over at Master Paul.

“Please, Alexis, lead the way,” Paul responded. “I could certainly use a refreshment or two.”

“I could use the whole damn bar,” Meredith muttered.

“The same with me,” Alexis replied. “The same with me.”

Chapter Nine

“The hard part is acting sad,” Meredith said, her hands in her lap as she sat at the end of the bed, the letter bearing the news crumpled next to her. “I think I loathed the man more than many of his enemies.”

“He wasn’t easy to like, that is for sure,” Alexis said, propped up by a stack of pillows, his face trying to hide the pain that plagued him. “But he was your brother, and Master of Station Thraen, so we are obligated to attend the funeral service.”

“What if we sent Alexis and Bella in our stead?” Meredith suggested. “Let this be the heir’s first official business. He’s had it easy so far, except for a couple stints as regent.”

“Which were really overseen by Stolt,” Alexis replied. “Not that I don’t trust Alexis to make the right choices, but…”

“You don’t trust Alexis to make the right choices,” Meredith said. “I do not blame you. He is a bright and merry young man, but I do not believe he takes any of his responsibilities seriously. And that ‘brother’ of his…”

“DuChaer,” Alexis almost spat. “Making him part of his entourage shows bad judgment of character on my son’s part. The flip parades around as if he is royalty and heir to my crown. My gut says to have the boy ejected into space as soon as possible before he does some real damage to Station Aelon.”

“Your gut needs to rest,” Meredith responded as she turned and looked at her husband. “That’s not just me, but all of your physicians’ orders. You are not young anymore, Alexis. And neither is that wound.”

“My double wound,” Alexis laughed. “What master is unlucky enough to survive an assassination attempt only to have the same wound pierced while fighting off rebels? Helios laughs at me, for sure.”

“The Dear Parent does no such thing,” Meredith said. “You are still alive despite the insults to your body. If Helios were laughing he would have put you in your grave before Alexis was of age so that Cousin Stolt could run the station as regent.”

“You do not like Cousin Stolt at all, do you?” Alexis smiled then waved his hand. “No need to answer, I know the truth. And, since you were honest about your brother, I’ll be honest about my cousin. I don’t trust him either. Never have. I know he’s worked behind my back to undermine me at times. But he’s also worked with me to help keep Aelon secure. The man doesn’t know his own ambitions sometimes. I’ll take advantage of that as long as I can.”

“But what about Alexis? What about how impressionable your son is? If Stolt outlasts you then he will have his hooks in Alexis before your body cools.”

“Aren’t we a morbid pair this morning,” Alexis laughed.

“The news of a death does that to people,” Meredith said.

“I am not worried about Stolt so much as I am about DuChaer. Stolt may be a self-serving noble, but he is a noble of Aelon. He’ll do everything he can to bolster his position and fill his coffers when I am gone, not unlike what he has done during my reign, but I believe, in the end, he will do what is right for Station Aelon as well.”

Alexis shifted his position and winced. He took a couple of long, deep breaths before he continued.

“Gannot DuChaer will devour this station with reckless abandon. He will use up my son, and the power he wields, until there is nothing left. Then he will move on, leaving Station Aelon a dried out husk of a monarchy. Stolt is an evil that is known, and an evil that has limitations. I don’t believe DuChaer understands what limitations are.”

“So what do we do about it, husband?” Meredith asked, gently moving to his side. She nuzzled her face against his neck, careful not to bump or move him. “How do we make sure DuChaer does not destroy everything you have worked for once you are gone?”

“I don’t know,” Alexis replied. “Stolt may be our only choice. I could grant the meeting of stewards additional powers. He holds the most sectors so he is the defacto leader of the meeting. By elevating the meeting, I limit the reach of the crown.”

“You’d cut off your nose to spite your face?” Meredith asked, alarmed. “I am all for limiting what a monarch can do, especially after the havoc my brother caused when he banished the gatekeepers from his court and seized their Vape wealth for himself, but diluting the crown’s power because of some common thug’s hold on a minor? What precedent does that set? You give Stolt more power and he will use it to destroy the monarchy and take everything for the stewards.”

“What would happen if Alexis died without an heir?” Alexis asked. “After I am gone and he becomes master? What then?”

“Then our son Thomas takes the crown,” Meredith replied.

“And Stolt knows he cannot control Thomas while you live, so what is the next logical conclusion?” Alexis said.

“Stolt removes me from the equation,” Meredith responded. “Then he has Thomas to himself.”

“Or he removes you and Thomas,” Alexis said. “Then the crown is up for contention. He does have a blood claim. He is a true cousin. Yes, there are other cousins on the station that could also throw in for the crown, but Stolt has his feet firmly planted in court. There would be few to oppose him.”

“You scare me, Alexis,” Meredith whispered. “All this talk of you dying and Cousin Stolt scheming.”

“These are things we have to discuss,” Alexis said. “I know my infirmity will pass, as it always has, but one day it won’t. One day this cursed wound will be the death of me and I need to know that those I love will be safe and taken care of.”

“Oh, speaking of curses,” Meredith said, her mood changing instantly. “Did you hear of what Gatekeeper Schlecht said upon my brother’s death?”

“I did not,” Alexis smiled. “Please, let me in on the royal gossip.”

“He said that it was proof of Helios’s anger at what Paul had done,” Meredith said. “And that a curse is on the crown of Station Thraen.”

“And what curse is that?”

“That none of my nephews shall produce a male heir,” Meredith said. “That the Herlect line would die out with the males already born.”

“That is quite the curse,” Alexis laughed. “Just goes to show that you never take credits from a gatekeeper. They always go straight for the Helios’s damnation every time.”

“But, do you see what this means?” Meredith said. “If none of my nephews produce male heirs, but your son and my niece do, then your grandson would actually have a legitimate claim on the crown of Station Thraen.”

“Helios, you are right!” Alexis exclaimed. “My grandson could end up ruling two stations! And their primes! Wouldn’t that be something? Do you think The Way would allow it? Having one master lord over two stations would constitute a concentration of power that might make the High Guardian nervous.”

“It should make everyone nervous,” Meredith said. “For it has never been accomplished before. No one knows what could happen.”

“So much chaos and uncertainty,” Alexis sighed. “It’s a wonder my mind doesn’t succumb to a daily stroke.”

* * *

“We attend his father’s funeral service and then his coronation, but the son of a bitch doesn’t have the balls to confront me face to face?” Alexis roared as he stared at the proclamation he had just been handed. The council sat quietly as the master punched the table with his fist again and again. “The bastard is lucky! If he’d told me, then I would have handed him his head right there in his own station!”

“Sire, calm down,” Stolt said. “You have pushed yourself these past weeks and you can’t afford a relapse.”

“I’m fine, Cousin,” Alexis snapped. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be here. My health is not of concern at this moment.”

“Not to argue with you, but your health is always of concern, your highness,” Stolt replied. “Men of our age cannot ignore the march of time. Helios’s calling is only around the corner.”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” Alexis stated. “I have much to accomplish before I am gone. First of which is to teach this new master a lesson in keeping one’s promises!”

“If I may, sire,” Steward Hylora said. “Master Charles did not make any promises, his father did.”

“The Thraen crown did!” Alexis shouted. “And it is the Thraen crown we are dealing with! Are you too stupid to understand how this all works, Hylora? Should I have you replaced on the council?”

“Sire, he was only suggesting an explanation to Master Charles’s motivations,” Steward Exchester said, coming to his colleague’s defense. “We are all trying to find reason in such an unreasonable action.”

“There is no reason to find!” Alexis shouted. “Except that the Thraenish whelp wants his ass handed to him by a man that truly knows what it means to be a master!”

“Uh oh,” Minor Alexis said as he walked into the great hall and saw the dark looks upon the council’s faces. “Bad news for the elite?”

“Can there ever be bad news for the elite?” DuChaer asked as he followed right behind the minor. “I mean, we are elite, after all. How bad could things get?”

“Helios has truly blessed us,” Minor Alexis said, his voice dripping with mockery.

“All praise the Dear Parent!” DuChaer added.

“Why is he here?” Alexis growled, an accusatory finger pointed towards the Thraen. “This is a council meeting, Alexis, not a trip to the pub.”

“Or brothel,” Stolt muttered under his breath. Alexis caught the words and whipped his head about, a glare of pure rage on his face. “My apologies, sire.”

“Even though your tone is insulting, I will answer your question, Father,” Minor Alexis said as he took a seat at the end of the long table. “Brother DuChaer is my official advisor. When I take the crown, Helios forbid, he will be my right hand, ready to advise me on all matters of station. I thought it best he understood now how those matters work.”

“I need to be prepared if I am going to be as efficient and trusted an advisor as Cousin Stolt,” DuChaer said as he sat next to Minor Alexis and promptly propped his feet up on the table. His boots were shined to perfection, but he still wet a thumb and wiped at an imaginary smudge before looking directly at the master. “You don’t want your son’s reign to be in the hands of the ignorant, do you, sire?”

“I fear it already is,” Alexis spat. “Get your fucking boots off my table.”

DuChaer held up his hands and set his feet back on the floor. He looked at Minor Alexis and frowned. “Perhaps we have hurried this along. I shall retire to my quarters and wait for your call, my lord.”

“No, Brother, you shall stay where you are,” Minor Alexis insisted. “My father had his advisor when he was only a minor and I will have mine.”

“My advisor was your late uncle!” Alexis yelled. “He was my real brother and had as much right to be present during a council meeting as I did! This...this...this flip does not!”

There were controlled gasps by the council at the slur; more because of the implication towards Minor Alexis than the insult to DuChaer.

“A flip?” DuChaer asked with surprise. “I can have half the Sector Forbine pleasure girls dispute that accusation, your highness.”

“And that statement is to convince me of your higher character?” Alexis asked. “That instead of buggering my son, you spend your time buggering whores? You wouldn’t be fit to advise the court fool, let alone a master.”

“Father, please,” Minor Alexis laughed. “Brother DuChaer is my trusted friend and nothing more. He is not a flip, I am not a flip, and there is only the love of comrades between us. You forget that you exiled me to Aelon Prime, leaving me with your sister and an estate filled with ruffians and drunks. Brother DuChaer was my only salvation from a life of true depravity. He is the son of a steward, you know. He brought civilization into a world barely elevated above primitive savagery.”

“I tried,” DuChaer said. “Ah, how I miss those days sometimes.”

“Do you?” Alexis asked then grinned wide. “Do you miss the freedom of living on the prime?”

“At times, sire,” DuChaer nodded.

“Good,” Alexis said. “Then you shall accompany me down to the planet as I retake what is mine.”

Alexis couldn’t help but smile at the shock that faced him. From the council stewards to his son and son’s friend, not a single face was able to remain composed after Alexis’s statement.

“What? Surely none of you expected me to take this insult lying down? I have done enough of that lately,” Alexis said. “No, I will descend on my lease holdings on Thraen Prime and return them to Aelish control. I plan on showing this new master just how hard the job really is.”

“Your highness,” Stolt said. “I do not think it wise for you and your son to leave Station Aelon. Despite my serious misgivings about a military campaign against Thraen Prime, I have even more misgivings about leaving the crown unprotected here.”

“You misunderstand me, Cousin,” Alexis explained. “My son will remain here on station as regent. He will rule in my stead while I beat the ever loving shit out of some Thraens and take back land that is mine in perpetuity.”

“But you said Brother DuChaer is to accompany you, Father,” Minor Alexis said. “Or did I hear that wrong?”

“You heard correctly,” Alexis said as he left his place and walked the length of the table down to his son.

He motioned for the minor to stand up and Minor Alexis, after a couple of puzzled frowns, did so. The entire table watched as Master Alexis circled the minor, seeming to study him with serious interest.

“As I thought,” he finally said. “You two are not joined at the hip as half the station likes to say.”

Alexis walked back to the head of the table, all jest gone and done for good.

“No, I mean as I said,” he stated gruffly. “DuChaer will accompany me to the prime while you, my son, remain here and rule for me. Being from Thraen Prime, DuChaer will be a great asset to have. He’ll know the land better than most of my generals and commanders. If he is to be a trusted advisor of the crown of Station Aelon then he will have to prove his loyalty before I pass and you take my position.”

“But, Father, Brother DuChaer is not—”

“Brother DuChaer is a subject of the Master of Station Aelon and he will fucking do as I fucking say!” Alexis shouted, his palms slapping the table top with every word. “That is unless you don’t feel he is up to the task. If that is the case then please make your voice heard now. Is he up to the campaign I propose, which would prove he is up to being a royal advisor, or is he not man enough to handle the basics of what it means to stand by a ruler? Please, Alexis, my son and heir, tell me which is it.”

DuChaer started to speak, but Alexis’s lifting of a single finger shut him up instantly.

“Son?”

“He is up to the task, Father,” Minor Alexis replied. “He will help with everything you need. Despite the accusations of Brother DuChaer being a flip, he is an accomplished bladesman and fighter. He will not disappoint you. Or me.”

“Good,” Alexis said as he slowly sat down, his eyes never leaving his son’s. “That is what I was hoping to hear.”

There was nothing but silence in the great hall. Not a creak, not a groan from the old castle could be heard as the council sat there, their minds reeling from everything that had occurred.

“Cousin Stolt,” Alexis said calmly. “Please inform the generals that we will be going to war. Also inform the meeting of Stewards and meeting of passengers that I expect their full support. That includes their financial support. The lease holdings on Thraen Prime benefit the entire station, not just the crown. We will all share in the cost of this campaign is that understood?”

“Explicitly, your highness,” Stolt nodded. “I will see to it immediately.”

“And I will see to it that my wife does not hear of this from other lips,” Alexis said. “That would be almost as dangerous as going to war.”

* * *

The Aelish destroyer, Malachai, cut its way through the boiling waters of Channel Blaern, its bow like a massive knife pointed at the coast of Thraen Prime. Behind it were eight more destroyers, each as impressive and dangerous as the lead ship.

Unlike the cutters of the Aelish Navy, the destroyers didn’t have protective atmospheric shields to cover the exposed upper deck. This meant that only a polybreen environmental suit and helmet were what stood between Master Alexis and certain, painful death. Several generals stood behind the master, their body language stating their disapproval of Alexis putting himself at so much risk, especially as they grew closer to the landing site of their attack.

“I have missed this,” Alexis stated as he looked over at the equally suited DuChaer. “The poisonous mist as it rises off the water; the never ending cloud cover draping the planet in a shroud of grey; the fact that all that is between me and asphyxiation is a suit made of polybreen, woven by hands in my lower decks that at one time wanted nothing more than to strangle me.” The master laughed and clapped DuChaer on the shoulder. “I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.”

“Yes, sire,” DuChaer replied, his ever present bravado lost, weighted down by fear of the coming fight. “The planet Helios is a test of courage and conviction.”

“Yes, it is,” Alexis said then spun about and faced his generals. “Are we ready, gentlemen?”

A man easily as tall as Alexis took a step forward and bowed slightly. His dark skin made it almost impossible to read his features inside his helmet.

“All forces are prepared for the landing, your highness,” General Umphrey Ryan stated. “Once the destroyers reach the shallows then the attack skids will be sent out. We know that General Staunchton Herlect and his men are waiting, but reports say that his numbers are woefully inadequate to fight us off.”

“Their very beings are woefully inadequate,” Alexis replied.

A sharp pain stabbed at his side and he had to use all of his self-control not to grab at it. He took a deep breath, hoping those around would interpret it as patience and resolution, and not a reaction to an alarming discomfort that quickly escalated into agony.

“You do not need to wait for my orders, General,” Alexis said. “Once in place I expect you to attack with all the force and might that Helios has granted this righteous army.”

“Yes, sire,” General Ryan said, bowing slightly once more. “We will not disappoint you.”

“This is not about me,” Alexis said, teeth gritted. “It is about the honor of Station Aelon and its people. From the stewards to the passengers, I do this because they deserve the respect of every station in the System. A move against our holdings is a move against our very existence. That cannot be tolerated.”

“No, sire, it cannot,” General Ryan agreed. “For the glory of Aelon!”

“For the glory of Aelon!” the rest of the generals echoed.

“If you will excuse us, sire, I will now join my men below as the other generals return to their destroyers and their men,” General Ryan said. “The war begins within the hour.”

“Helios’s blessing to you all,” Alexis said and nodded towards the men as they turned crisply and left the deck.

“Uh, your highness?” DuChaer asked. “Am I to accompany the first wave or remain here by your side?”

“You, Brother DuChaer, are to remain by my side,” Alexis replied. “Then when this conflict is over, you are to remain here on the planet, banished to the lease holdings on Thraen Prime. You will not step one foot outside of the boundaries without the threat of execution. Your time with my son is over, you sick little flip. I don’t care how many whores you say you’ve fucked, I know you covet my son for his title and his body. You are an abomination to Helios and I will not stand for your presence in my court.”

DuChaer stood stock still as he looked out at the ever approaching piece of land. Despite the coastline being technically assigned to Station Aelon and an extension of its prime, DuChaer was a Thraen and he knew the land was a part of him, not the master that stood menacingly close.

Yet he replied, “Your son is not like you, sire. He is a man that loves the land underneath his feet. He likes to live with a thrill in his heart and a cheer in his throat. Your son was raised by soldiers and men that understood what it meant to face death each and every time you walked out of an airlock. Alexis is a lover of the poetry of living, whether that means digging trenches in the breen fields or catching gully fish with his hands in the swamps. You want to bind his spirit to a floating ball of metal and polybreen stuck up in the heavens, when all he wants to do is live free down here on the primes. With me.”

“My son will never set foot on this planet again, as long as I am alive,” Alexis replied. “Nor will he ever set eyes on your smug face. Those well-rehearsed words of yours mean so little to me. I bind my son to nothing, it is his heritage that binds him; binds him to his destiny of taking the crown and learning that being a master of station is not a position of freedom, but a position that grants freedom. He doesn’t have a choice in the matter, just like I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice, your highness,” DuChaer replied. “You choose to not exercise it. Do not project your cowardice onto my Alexis. He is much greater than your failures.”

Alexis’s first instinct was to pick the lout up and throw him over the railing, sending him to a messy death in the waters of Helios. But the pain in his side prevented him from even turning on the impertinent youth. To have shown weakness in front of such as DuChaer would have been too much for Alexis to bear, so he remained still and let silence be his response.

It did the job as DuChaer grew increasingly ill at ease while he waited for an outburst or some type of retaliation. For a split second it seemed as if the Thraen would have preferred to throw himself overboard than stand and wait for retribution.

“Does your father still live?” Alexis asked, finally breaking the silent treatment.

“He does, sire,” DuChaer responded.

“And does he know what you are?”

“He knows I live my life the way I want,” DuChaer replied.

“Yes, but does he approve of that way?”

“Not entirely, sire,” DuChaer said. “He has expressed concerns over the years.”

“Yet he hasn’t disowned you? Surprising.”

“He made a promise to my mother that he would always keep me in his life,” DuChaer explained. “My father has never broken a promise to my mother; not when she was alive and certainly not while she rests in peace.”

“Too bad you did not get your sense of honor from your father,” Alexis said. “You might have had a great future to look forward to. Now, all you have to look forward to is a life far removed from my court. Or any court, really, as I doubt any of the stations will look kindly on an exile.”

“When you pass, your highness, you do know that your son will recall me, right?” DuChaer asked. “He will not leave me down here to rot.”

“He will leave you,” Alexis said. “For I will make him swear an unbreakable oath to Helios and all that is holy to uphold my final wishes. Your exile will be last on my lips.” Alexis laughed and clapped his gloves together. “Plus, I have left instructions with Stolt to make sure you never set foot on Station Aelon again. If you do, you will be executed on the spot by the royal guard.”

“You really hate me so much?” DuChaer asked. “Why?”

“Because you are not a man,” Alexis said, finally risking the pain and turning his body so he could look the young man in the face. “You are a parasite that has latched onto my son and is sucking him dry of all that makes a Teirmont a Teirmont.”

“And what is it that makes a Teirmont a Teirmont?” DuChaer asked.

“Our independence,” Alexis replied. “We are beholden only to Helios, and even the Dear Parent’s grasp on us is tenuous. A leech like you puts that legacy of independence at risk. That is what I am putting a stop to.”

“And nothing I say can change your mind, sire?”

“Nothing Helios could say would change my mind,” Alexis said, his face a mixed grimace of triumph and torment. “Which is a statement my son will not be able to make as long as you are in his life. I hope you said some type of goodbye to Alexis, because your influence on him is over.”

DuChaer swallowed hard under the intense gaze of the master, bowed, then turned and fled the deck of the destroyer. In seconds claxons started to ring as the ships made their final approach towards the prime coastline. Alexis knew the young man would immediately try to contact his son and was glad he already gave orders to imprison the youth in the brig until the conflict was all over.

Alexis the First, Master of Station Aelon was done playing games and indulging the whims of those around him. He was ready for war and his soul burned to conquer and kill, even if he himself would not join in the actual battle.

* * *

The screen before Alexis showed a grainy image of the Aelon council, his son sitting at the head of the table, all eyes on Steward Stolt as the man pleaded with the master.

“The treasury is nearly bankrupt, sire,” Stolt said. “As much as I would like to teach Thraen a lesson for trying to rescind our lease holdings on their prime, I cannot condone an all out war and seizure of the entire continent! It would be grossly irresponsible of me to agree with you, my liege.”

“Some would say it would be irresponsible of you to disagree with me, Cousin,” Alexis glared, hoping the fury he felt could be conveyed across the transmission from the meeting room he sat in on Aelon Prime to the great hall of the station orbiting above. “I may be on the planet, but I am still Master of Station Aelon. You will rally the sectors, levy the taxes needed to fund this campaign, and make sure I have the resources sent to me that I need to crush Thraen Prime and show Master Charles the First of Thraen what happens when you pick a fight with a Teirmont!”

Stolt sighed, but nodded. “Yes, sire, I will see to it at once. Is there anything else I can tell the meeting of stewards? Maybe something to lessen the blow of this edict?”

“Tell them that I will be leading the charge this time,” Alexis said. “I will no longer be sitting back and watching this conflict, but actively participating so that the soldiers of Aelon know they have a master that puts station before his own life.”

“Your highness!” Stolt shouted. “That cannot be allowed! You are not a man in his youth! Whether you see combat or not, you risk your very life just by exerting yourself! Need I remind you about—”

“That is all, Cousin,” Alexis said. “My mind is made up. And you need not remind me about anything. I am well aware of who I am and what exertions I can handle.”

He clutched at the wound that seeped fluids into the heavy breen bandages wrapped about his torso. Even though he was fully dressed, Alexis could tell some of the council caught the movement. He doubted his wife would be spared the observations. Alexis knew to expect a transmission from Meredith in the very near future.

The image started to waver and fade and Alexis leaned forward.

“It appears our talk is about to be cut short as the station’s orbit moves from range,” Alexis said. “Do as I have commanded and all will be well. We are Aelish and we will bow to no one.”

“Yes, sire. We are Aelish, but...cannot...landing…”

The transmission hissed and popped then went to nothing but static as Station Aelon, thousands of miles above, moved out of orbital synch. Alexis leaned back in his chair, nearly crying out as his side protested angrily, and looked at the wide window before him. Aelon Prime stretched and stretched for miles, making him wonder if masters of old, the leaders that ruled before the planet was torn apart by the Cataclysm, only needed to gaze upon the land to find inspiration.

If so, he knew how they felt, for his whole body hummed with inspiration and drive. He understood he was living his last days, and despite his need to see his wife one last time, he did not regret the choice to spend those last days fighting for the honor of family Teirmont and Station Aelon.

* * *

“Push forward!” Alexis shouted from the front of his royal skid as rows and rows of Aelish soldiers before him engaged with the Thraenish troops. “Drive them back!”

“Sire, you must get down!” General Ryan yelled, yanking on the master’s arm. Several flechettes pinged along the railing. “Sire!”

The general forcibly pulled the master back towards the armored enclosure set up around the skid controls. The flat vehicle used the same rotational drive that allowed the stations to orbit the planet and maintain artificial gravity, but on a fraction of the scale. Hovering just above the ground, the royal skid was three times the size of an average skid, able to hold the small group of generals and advisors that watched the battle rage.

“Let go of me,” Alexis hissed despite his obvious pain. “I am Master of Station Aelon and I will rally my troops as I see fit!”

“Sire, we are taking heavy fire from their slingers,” General Ryan said. “While they do not have particle barbs, there is always the chance your suit will be pierced, even with your royal armor.”

Alexis smacked his chest, refusing to wince at the pain it caused his wound, and stared the general in the eyes, the visors of their helmets almost touching.

“I am a Teirmont and a Teirmont does not run from tiny pieces of metal, General Ryan,” Alexis said. “This armor is the best polybreen in the System. Their little slings can do nothing to me. They’d need a hundred long blades to even get to my flesh!”

The generals and advisors looked at each other, worry clouding their visored faces.

“Sire, are you feeling well?” General Ryan asked. “Your face is flushed and you are sweating.”

“We are at war, Ryan! There are sweat and tears and blood in war! Would you prefer I was safely back on Aelon Prime, sitting in my quarters with a cold tea and haunch of shaow leg? I bet you would,” Alexis glared. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at the men about him. “I bet you all would. Then you could take your time with this war, drag it out so that more Aelish men die while you get the glory.”

“Your highness,” General Ryan said as he reached out to take the master’s arm once again. “You aren’t making sense. We are here to do as you bid, that is all. We want this day to be a decisive win for Aelon. The fewer men we lose the greater the victory. It is not about our glory, but about the honor of Station Aelon and Aelon Prime.”

Alexis watched the man for a long, silent minute, the gears in his head grinding together as he tried to make sense of the feverish jumble that was his mind. The master sighed and clapped the General on the shoulder then turned to look out at the battlefield.

“The only way to glory is to fight,” Alexis said, holding out his hand. “My long blade, General. Now.”

“Sire?”

“My long blade,” Alexis said, his hand waiting there, empty. “I would like my long blade. Is that difficult to understand?”

“No, sire, I just wonder for what purpose you need your long blade,” General Ryan replied. “Surely you aren’t thinking of joining in the fight. If so then I would have to protest greatly.”

“I will tell you my purpose once I have been given my long blade,” Alexis said. “Place it in my hand now!”

The general looked over at one of the royal attendants, but the man only shrugged and shook his head.

“It appears your blades were not brought with us, your highness,” General Ryan said. “They must be back on Aelon Prime in your quarters.” The attendant nodded in confirmation. “I am truly sorry, sire. I take full responsibility for this oversight. No one expected you to need them.”

“No one expected me to need them?” Alexis echoed, his voice mocking and cruel. “No one expected me to need them? I’m master of this battle! Of course I will need them!”

He whirled on the men and looked about the small space.

“Where is Corbin?” Alexis asked. “Corbin! Correct this at once!”

“Corbin Breach, sire?” the attendant asked. “The former head of the royal guard?”

“No, Corbin Willymuck, that stupid clown that performs during the Last Meal celebrations each year,” Alexis spat. “Yes, I mean Corbin Breach! Where is that man? He should be by my side as he was when we fought the accursed lowdeckers. Now that was a battle!”

The master swayed and clutched his side. Attendants moved forward, but he shoved them back, his eyes filled with anger and contempt.

“You dare to grab a master?” he shouted. “You think because you dress me and watch me crap that you are equal to me? You are all nothing but siggy worms eating at a corpse! You are the droppings of trollen birds left for the wind and waves to clean from the pristine deck of my royal cutter! You are walking louts of flame that eat at my...eat at my…”

The master didn’t finish.

His eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed onto the deck of the skid. His attendants were at his side instantly and they held him as they looked up at General Ryan for instructions.

“Take him back to Aelon Prime,” General Ryan said to the skid pilot, his face drawn and exhausted. “Get him to his quarters and into bed. Make sure the physicians know you are on the way. Hopefully he will not expire before we can get him up to the station. This is not how greatness should leave the world.”

The generals quickly got down off the skid and moved out of the way as the vehicle spun about and shot away. The men of war looked at each other then at General Ryan as they stood in the scrim grass.

“We’ll regroup on my skid,” General Ryan said. “There is nothing we can do.”

“Should we contact the station?” one of the men asked.

“Not until we know if he survives the journey across the water back to Aelon Prime,” General Ryan replied. “When we have confirmation then I will contact Steward Stolt. He can inform the council and Mistress Meredith.”

“If he dies then Minor Alexis becomes master,” a general said. “Will he continue this campaign or call it to a halt?”

“No way to know,” General Ryan said. “It depends on how he is advised.”

The old soldiers stood there, solemn with the thought of who Minor Alexis received his advice from.

* * *

The wound continually oozed green puss and brown liquid. Despite everything the physicians tried, they could not stop, or even slow, the infection that had raged in the master’s body for so many years.

“Am I to die today?” Alexis asked, his eyes blurred by pain and fever. “Rick? Tell me the truth. Am I to die today?”

“Rick?” a physician asked.

“His brother, the late minor,” another physician replied. “Long since dead.”

“His mind is burdened by memories,” a third physician suggested. “We could sedate him so he sleeps and is not troubled by such thoughts.”

“We cannot sedate a master,” a physician from the back snapped.

The man, Xander Vlerara, was the youngest of the physicians, but stood and held himself as if he had always been in charge. The other physicians looked at him, six in total, and waited for him to finish. Despite his young age, he had risen quickly in the medical ranks of Station Aelon and had specifically requested he be assigned to the master during the prime campaign. From a long line of physicians, he was the latest in his family to serve the crown and he took the honor as seriously as he did his own life.

Perhaps more so.

“A master must not be put under unless the regent has been informed,” Vlerara stated. “Have we been able to establish communications with the station?”

“We are still out of orbital synch,” an attendant said from the doorway. “Communications with Station Aelon will be restored in the next few minutes, though, sir. I was under orders from General Ryan to let the mistress speak to his highness first.”

“Very well,” Vlerara replied. “She can speak to him then the minor. Once the regent gives his assent then we can sedate the master. If he lives long enough for that.”

“He must have been in great agony for weeks, if not months,” the first physician stated. “Were the physicians on station not aware of this?”

“They were,” Vlerara replied. “But he is the master and told them to do nothing. Not that anything could be done. The master has been treated for his wound since he was young. When it was re-injured it sealed his fate. I believe only willpower has allowed him to last this long.”

“Father? Father, did I finish your work?” Alexis asked, gripping one of the physicians by the collar and pulling him close. “I tried, Father. I made sure your remodeling of the decks continued. Did I do you proud, Father?”

The physician looked back at Vlerara in horror and confusion.

“Answer him,” Vlerara said. “Give him some comfort.”

“Uh...yes...Son,” the physician responded to the delirious monarch. “You did me proud. All of your work was exactly as I envisioned.”

“Was it? Excellent,” Alexis said as he relinquished his grip on the poor physician. The man scuttled away, his robes nearly tripping him up in his haste. “Where are my children? I want to see them so they can hear it from your lips that I did you proud. Where are little Thomas and James? Where are my girls, Bora and Haley? Bring them to me. I must hold them.”

“They have been detained by the shuttle, your highness,” Vlerara responded. “But they are on their way. I believe you can speak to Minor Alexis soon, though, sire. He will be grateful to hear your wise words one last time.”

“One last time…” Alexis whispered as a hint of clarity came to him. “Yes, of course. One last time.” The master looked about and shook his head. “My death began here, you know. On the planet. So many years ago when I was young and still innocent. So young…”

“The communications have been restored,” the attendant said as he wheeled over a video screen and large microphone. “The minor is waiting to speak with his father.”

“Leave them in private,” Vlerara said to the physicians. “This conversation is between royals.”

“I will stay,” the attendant said. “I am required to, as witness to any royal proclamations.”

“Of course,” Vlerara nodded as he hurried the other physicians from the room. “But alert us immediately if the master’s condition worsens.”

The attendant nodded then waited for the door to close before gently placing the bulky microphone in the master’s hands.

“Sire? Minor Alexis is waiting to speak to you. He is on the screen here.” The attendant tapped the grainy image then stepped away from the bed and into the shadows of the royal quarters.

“Father?” Minor Alexis asked, his voice tinny and thin from the weak connection. “Father, they say you are dying. Is this true?”

“Can a master ever die, Son?” Alexis chuckled. It sounded more like a harsh rattle of pain than anything born of mirth. “A master lives on in history forever, Alexis. Know this, understand this. What you do with your reign will always be remembered. You control your immortality.”

“Yes, Father, of course,” Minor Alexis nodded. “But your story isn’t finished. You must get better and return to me. I have so much more to learn.”

Alexis laughed hard, which turned into a coughing fit that sent him writhing with pain on the bed.

“Father!” Minor Alexis yelled. “Fetch the physicians back! Call them to help!”

“No...no,” Alexis replied as he settled himself. “There is no point.” He breathed deeply and tried to focus on the video image. “Let me speak with your mother.”

“Meredith is in the other room,” Minor Alexis said. “I’ll get her.”

“Meredith? That child? No, no, your mother, Alexis. Let me speak with my Eliza.”

The minor paused, unsure of how to respond.

“What is it? Why do you not fetch her immediately? I am dying, Son. I do not have time to wait.”

“Mother passed years ago, Father,” Minor Alexis said. “Your wife is the Mistress Meredith now, remember?”

“Meredith…” Alexis said. “I saved her. She was so young, perhaps eight or nine, I can’t remember. I saved her when they tried to assassinate me. Those bastard gatekeepers wanted me dead so they could give Derrick the crown and keep me from making changes. I know the stewards were behind it, but could never prove a thing.”

Minor Alexis narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the camera on his end.

“The stewards, Father? Which stewards?” he asked. “Was it Cousin Stolt? Did you know even then that he had an agenda against the crown?”

“Cousin Stolt,” Alexis nodded. “Yes, I believe it was. I kept him close all these years. Made sure his fate was intertwined with mine. I know he worked behind the scenes during the lower decks uprising. I know it.”

Minor Alexis smiled. “I have always suspected. Is there proof, Father? Tell me where you have the proof. I will need it to fight him off when he comes after me.”

“No, Son, there is no proof other than my gut feeling,” Alexis said. “Which is quite diseased at the present time.” Alexis laughed weakly then reached out to touch the screen. His fingers ran down the black and white image of his son’s face and he tried to smile. “Do not fight the man, Alexis. Let him have his little glories. Just steer him in the direction you want. His ambition will always look to keep the crown strong, no matter his own intentions. He does not want a weak Station Aelon anymore than you or I do.”

“Yes, Father,” Minor Alexis nodded. “I thank you for that counsel.”

“And kill them all,” Alexis snarled. “When they try to kill you in your sleep! When they box you in on a lift! When they hold you down and fill you with Vape! Kill them all, my son! Kill then all!”

The master’s body began to convulse and shake and the attendant ran to him.

“Your highness!” he shouted. “Oh, Helios! Physicians! Vlerara! Physicians, help!”

“Father? Father!” Minor Alexis yelled from the screen, but the cart was shoved aside as the bed was surrounded by harrowed physicians. “Father!”

Alexis screamed as the pain raged through his body. The wound in his side began to pour blood, dark, heavy blood, and no matter the number of towels pressed against it, they were not enough.

With one last, long scream, Master Alexis of Station Aelon left the world of the living and joined Helios in the One True System for eternity.

When Vlerara was certain that the master was dead he turned to the screen to see Minor Alexis watching it all, hands covering his mouth, his eyes wide with fear.

“I am sorry, your highness,” Vlerara said. “Your father has passed on. The master is dead, long live the master.”

He quickly took a knee and the other physicians, as well as the attendants in the room, joined him.

“The master is dead, long live the master!”

* * *

“Your highness, the treasury cannot handle the expense of such a lavish coronation,” Steward Stolt said as he stood in front of the new master. “With the expense of the campaign against Thraen Prime, we barely have enough to keep basic operations going on the station.”

“And whose fault is that, Stolt?” Alexis the Second asked. “Don’t think I don’t know that you have been pilfering credits from the crown for decades.”

“I have vast holdings in all of my sectors, sire,” Stolt replied, his voice even and calm. “I do not need to pilfer from the crown. My wealth is all my own.”

“Then perhaps it is time you shared some of that wealth with the crown,” Alexis grinned, delighted that Stolt had fallen right into his trap. “I am sure you could finance the coronation expenses all by yourself, don’t you think? As a gift to me?”

“Even I am not that wealthy, sire,” Stolt said and bowed. “I am sorry.”

“That you are, Stolt. That you are,” Alexis sighed as he crossed his legs and started to drum his fingers on the long table in the great hall. “So, the only recourse is to raise taxes so we can pay for the coronation. I refuse to be crowned like a simple master. Do you think I’m a Flaenian? Those garment makers and tailors can live like the common folk, but here on Station Aelon we treat our masters like...kings.”

Stolt stood and had to use every ounce of his willpower not to reprimand the young master for his almost blasphemous use of the word “king.”

“Sire, as much as I want to please you, I cannot make credits appear in the treasury,” Stolt said. “The only way possible would be to end the prime campaign and call a truce with Master Charles.”

“A truce? Is that possible?” Alexis asked.

“Well, of course, your highness,” Stolt said. “We could recall all of our troops and end the conflict with a simple declaration. But the council would be against it, sire. They have fully committed to the campaign. Not to mention the generals. From what I have seen of this morning’s report, we are close to actually taking all of Thraen Prime.”

“But if we stop now then the treasury would have enough money for my coronation, yes?”

Stolt hesitated. He wanted to answer truthfully, to do otherwise would be very dangerous, but what the new master was hinting at was beyond irresponsible and bordered on complete corruption of power. A master ending a military campaign to finance his own coronation? Station Aelon would become the laughingstock of the System.

Stolt swallowed hard and pushed on. “Yes, sire, if we end the campaign against Thraen Prime then the treasury could afford your coronation.”

“Then make that happen,” Alexis said, pushing around a stack of papers as he searched the table for a pen. “Get me something to write with and I will declare it done today.”

“Sire, this would require the approval of the meeting of stewards as well as the meeting of passengers. You cannot just—”

“Am I master of this station or not?” Alexis shouted as he stood and shoved all the papers onto the floor. “If I decide to end this silly campaign then the silly campaign is ended! Bring me a pen so I can put this to writing and not have to think of it ever again!”

He looked about the great hall at the stunned faces.

“Why is no one moving? I want a pen now!”

Half of the servants jumped into action, each finding a pen and hurrying over to offer it to the master.

“See, Stolt,” Alexis smirked as he picked one of the pens and sat back down. “Was that so hard? Paper. Now.”

Stolt just smiled as he bent to the floor and found a clean sheet of paper from the mess Alexis had created. He set the paper directly in front of the master and stepped back. It took Alexis all of two minutes to write out his declaration. He signed it, blew on the ink, then set the pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“The war is over,” Alexis said. “Let the station celebrate. No one likes a silly war anyway.”

“Yes, sire,” was all Stolt said as he nodded to the master. “Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of at the moment, Stolt,” Alexis replied. “But I am sure the council will want to have words with me after they hear of this.”

“As will the stewards, your highness,” Stolt replied.

“Yes, them as well,” Alexis said. “Go ahead and schedule the meetings today. Let’s get this business behind us so I can be properly crowned without the shadow of nonsense floating above me.”

“Yes, sire,” Stolt said. “I will make it all happen.”

The steward turned and strode towards the entrance to the great hall. Just as he was about to leave, the master called for him one last time.

“Stolt! Hold!” Alexis yelled. “There is one thing that needs to be done. I want this to happen before we announce the end of the war.”

“And that is, your highness?” Stolt asked, turning to face the master.

“Send word to the sectors that Brother DuChaer has been returned to Station Aelon,” Alexis said. “The dearest friend a master could have is no longer in exile. He is home, Stolt, he is home.”

“Is home, your highness?” Stolt asked. “When did he return?”

“That does not concern you, Cousin,” Alexis said. “Just make sure the meeting of stewards knows. I don’t want it to be a surprise when he is seated at my right hand.”

Stolt bowed low, looked at the floor, and waited for the opportunistic grin on his face to fade away before he stood straight again.

“It will be a pleasure to have Gannot DuChaer back at court,” Stolt responded. “Every master should have a friend and confidant they can turn to. I can think of no more worthy candidate than DuChaer.”

“Well said, Stolt,” Alexis agreed. “He gives nothing but the best advice. Oh, and Stolt, there is one more thing.”

“Yes, sire?”

“Bestow upon Brother DuChaer some title. I know he is heir to a Thraenish stewardship, but that is Thraen,” Alexis said. “Find him an eligible woman with solid holdings here on the station. A man of his breeding mustn’t stay a bachelor, don’t you agree? How would that look? The advisor to the master should be a full steward with all the rights and privileges.”

“You couldn’t be more correct, sire,” Stolt said. “I will find him a worthy spouse. I am sure women will line up for the honor of being his wife.”

“I would if I were them,” Alexis said then cleared his throat. “Now go. You have much to do.”

“Yes, sire. Thank you, sire,” Stolt said as he backed out of the great hall and shut the doors behind him.

The steward stared at the carvings on the door for a long while, his mind working through the implications of what had just happened.

“Steward Stolt?” a servant asked. “Are you well?”

“Oh, I am more than well,” Stolt said. “I am elated. It is an exciting time on the station, my boy. Do not forget where you were when this day happened. It will be remembered throughout history.”

The servant frowned as Stolt walked quickly away, ready to do as the master bid and to set his own plans into motion.

It was an exciting time indeed.

About the Author

Jake is the author of the bestselling Z-Burbia series set in Asheville, NC, the Apex Trilogy (DEAD MECH, The Americans, Metal and Ash) and the Mega series for Severed Press, as well as the YA zombie novel, Little Dead Man and the Teen horror novel, Intentional Haunting, the ScareScapes series, and the Reign of Four series for Permuted Press.

Find Jake at jakebible.com. Join him on Twitter @jakebible and find him on Facebook.

Also by Jake Bible

Little Dead Man

Intentional Haunting

ScareScapes Series –

ScareScapes Book One: Phantom Limbs!

ScareScapes Book Two: Systems Failure!

ScareScapes Book Three: The Sleepwalking Dead!

ScareScapes Book Four: Attack of the Living Shadows!

ScareScapes Book Five: End of Life Exams!

ScareScapes Book Six: Into the Black!

The Apex Trilogy -

Dead Mech

The Americans

Metal and Ash

Z-Burbia Series -

Z-Burbia

Z-Burbia 2: Parkway To Hell

Z-Burbia 3: Estate Of The Dead

Z-Burbia 4: Cannibal Road

Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland

The Mega Series -

Mega: A Deep Sea Thriller

Mega 2: Baja Blood

Mega 3: When Giants Collide

Kaiju Winter Series -

Kaiju Winter: An End of the World Thriller

Kaiju Storm

Table of Contents

- Act I—A Young Master Rises
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Act II—A Rebellion Halted
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Act III—A New Life, A Sudden Death
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- About the Author