Flying from the Raptor’s clutches, part one
Shore Leave: Welcome to Drozana
Location: Imperial Residence, Romulus
Areinnye hurled a vase at the nearest wall of the opulent sitting room. The elaborate pottery piece exploded in a satisfyingly loud and dramatic fashion, even if Areinnye couldn’t throw it with all her force. The garments of an Imperial paramour weren’t designed for exerting anything except one’s social status.
“This is outrageous!” She screamed. “He told me he was going to marry me! Do you know who I am? What I have sacrificed to be with him?” The Commander was nearly hysterical.
“Be that as it may, the Emotae feels it would not be fitting to continue your...arrangement.” Said the aide, visibly uncomfortable “When he found you with the pilot, it seems to have...soured his desires”
Another priceless vase took flight, this one soaring surprisingly close to the aide’s head.
A half hour later, Areinnye was seen exiting the Imperial residence. Two massive trunks followed her, pushed with obvious strain and effort. Her haughty strut led them to the Celestial, a runabout-sized yacht parked on a shuttlepad near the residence.
The hull of the vessel was beautiful. Dark grey panels met nearly-seamlessly with the canopy of transparent aluminum, tinted to also be dark grey. The result was one nearly unbroken, bulbous shape. Only the impulse engines in the back, and the small deflector array at the bottom front broke the lines at all.
As they approached an entry hatch appeared, opening to offer a peek at the richly appointed grey and green interior. Areinnye boarded, casting a glance at the pilot she had been caught with.
Taev said nothing, continuing with the pre-flight routine while the outrageous luggage was loaded into the cargo hold at the rear of the yacht.
When the hatch sealed closed, he requested launch clearance, which was granted with astonishing speed. There was something to be said for the preferential treatment given to the Imperial yacht, regardless of if it held the intended occupant or not.
The ship had just reached Romulus’ mesosphere when Areinnye appeared again, this time in her uniform. “Activate the device” she said calmly. Taev nodded and keyed a few commands into a the ship’s communications system.
Down at the Imperial residence, the morning was idyllic. A cool breeze from the ocean fanned the sun-bathed structures and gardens.
And then, the bed chambers of the principal occupant were engulfed in fire and smoke. A Reman disruptor would later be found, rigged to explode quite near to the remains of the last member of the Imperial family.
“You realize you’ve just destroyed the home my family has occupied for the better part of the last two centuries?” Came the words of Varelian, the Imperial who was supposed to be in the explosion.
“Forgive me, Emotae. But do you imagine the forthcoming supernova will pass over your ancestral home as it destroys the heart of the Empire?” Areinnye said, coolly.
Gone was the haughty attitude, discarded with the elaborate garments. In its place, the cold calculations of an expert strategist. The months of work that had pulled Areinnye away from her crew and ship were weary and tiresome. But saving Varelian would be a major win for the escaping group.
“If I may remark, Emotae. I am amazed that one of the parties preparing to seize power during the chaos hasn’t taken you hostage yet. You would be nothing more than a bargaining token and a target.” Areinnye explained.
“Yes yes, so you’ve told me. I’m doomed to be that regardless of what I do. It is my destiny to be a political tool, because the Rhiyrh’s blood flows through me” Varelian lamented.
Taev rolled his eyes and laid in a course for Drozana station. The yacht was only capable of warp 7, and mixed with the aristocratic company, this was bound to be a very, very long voyage.
*Emotae = Noble
*Rhiyrh = Emperor