Post by sakurajudoka on Jan 18, 2024 10:58:24 GMT
“Sir, we are approaching Vaplana now. I advise you to take your seats for landing.” A steward approached Malax Wickford who had been talking with his Nephew Brian. He had been filling in Brian on his private chat with Fg'han Y'hola, almost feverishly going over all of his plans on how to help the Zetyan diplomat with his predicament.
The peace talks had gone so well for Vaplana, until the tragedy of Eiasten’s assassination of course. News of that had probably reached home by now, and Malax could clearly picture Fidelia’s despair at losing such a valuable ally and friend. He would visit her immediately once they landed, not just to fill her in but also to comfort her in her grief.
“Thank you. Come on, uncle, let’s strap in.” Brian, noticing that his uncle was far too absorbed in his racing mind to pay notice gently guided the Prime Minister to his seat. There was no pulling him out of such zeal, but that was what Brian was here for. He wondered how the old man before him had managed to bash out such an important deal with the Zetyan diplomat only hours earlier…
Brian took to gazing out of the shuttle window on the descent, his uncle still muttering to himself under his breath and writing down scrawling notes in a little book. That was his planning book. Before the conference, it had been full of his notes on the VDL investigation, but now it was full of names. Spies, Brian noted. Skilled propagandists especially. People his uncle intended to use to aid the Zetyans.
The descent was smooth, the sky outside shifting from the inky darkness of space to the brilliant clear blue of the Vaplanan atmosphere. Not a cloud could be seen for miles around. Brian grinned. Space was wonderful, but there was nothing quite like coming home. He saw the sprawling city of Veulas below him, slowly growing as they approached. The shuttle jolted a little as they touched down, but it was nothing that Brian had not expected. He immediately rose, wanting to feel real ground under his feet. Space had been fun, but Brian was a classic Vaplanan, the natural world was his true home and where he truly belonged.
“Here, if you are to scurry off at least take this with you.” Malax, suddenly snapping out of his daydream, pressed his notebook into his nephew’s hands. “I want you to contact these people, organise the meetings for me. ASAP, please Brian.”
There was no rest for the wicked, Brian thought.
“Of course, uncle, I’ll get to it right away.” Brian nodded, took the small notebook, and quickly disembarked the shuttle. He was the first off, much to his surprise. The staff should already be unloading their bags, so when he was beckoned to the port office by the officials he frowned. He jogged over, eager to show them their landing ID so the crew could get to unload their belongings.
“I am of the Prime Minister Malax Wickford’s party. Did you not receive our landing codes?” Brian asked the confused dockmaster.
“No, I am sorry sir, there was a communications failure. Can I see your-” The conversation was cut short suddenly by a noise so loud it made Brian’s head spin. An unknown force knocked the pair to the ground, and it was a good job that Brian instinctively covered his head with his arms as shrapnel began to rain down on him.
It had felt like an eternity that Brian had been lying on the landing pad. It was only when he tasted blood on his lips that he opened his eyes. The dockmaster was sprawled next to him, impaled by some large metal spike. A pole, or something, Brian could not exactly tell. His vision was blurred, his ears were ringing, and he overall felt like death warmed up. He groaned and slowly rose to his feet, turning back to see nothing but fire and smoke where their shuttle had once been.
His stomach dropped. His uncle had been on the shuttle, he was sure he had not left behind him. He stumbled closer, but could not get close enough to the smouldering wreck due to the heat and smoke billowing into the once-blue sky. Still clutching his uncle’s notebook, Brian Wickford fainted from the shock.
“Your Majesty, may I come in?” A knock at the door. It was early evening, but the Queen was tired and so had retreated to the privacy of her rooms to try and find a little peace after yet another busy day. She had been in the middle of sketching in her design book, trying to design the perfect dress to wear when she could see Lu Xun again…
The Queen sighed. She was never truly off-duty. “Enter.” She rose from her seat, flipping her book shut, safe from prying eyes. She was a little surprised to see Talos and her Transport Minister Artoria Senecio before her, the two had never really crossed paths to her knowledge before.
“I am sorry to disturb Your Majesty at such an hour, but this news cannot wait.” Talos bowed before her, his usual pleasantries dripping from his tongue in a tone that Fidelia had not quite heard from her Spymaster before. It was hard to place, and it made her a little uneasy. Senecio also bowed, but Fidelia noted that her advisor’s eyes never strayed from the Queen, as if she was intently watching Fdelia’s every move. She was tempted to call for her guard to enter, but thought better of it. These were people she should trust, it would do her no good to cause unnecessary offence.
“What news could be so important it cannot wait until morning, Talos?” Fidelia ran her fingers over the sketchbook on the table at her back, wanting desperately to go back to her one escape before the inspiration left her.
“I have news from the Veulas spaceport, Majesty…” Minister Senecio looked to Talos, then back at the Queen again. “About The Prime Minister…”
“Malax? I was told he would be back tomorrow morning!” Fidelia shot a glance at Talos, he had been the one to inform Fidelia of Malax’s return time from the summit. She quickly turned and rushed to her wardrobe, pulling out a warm cloak that was suitable for travel. “Well if he is already back I must go at once and see him! We have so much to discuss!” She grinned. The meeting with Lu Xun and Lu Xiang had gone so well, she could not wait to tell Malax all about it! And she desperately wanted to ask him about all of the conversations he had at the peace talks too, of course.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, but you cannot leave the Palace at this time.” Talos approached and placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder.
“What? Why ever so? I must see Malax at once!”
“He’s dead, Your Majesty… There was an explosion.” Minister Senecio sputtered, not looking Fidelia in the eye. She clutched her cloak closer, looking desperately between Talos and the Minister.
“What? How could that be? No… It's a lie, I will not believe it.” Fidelia snapped, pushing Talos aside and making a dash to her balcony. She had one of the best views of Veulas from her rooms, and she could always see the shuttles landing at the spaceport from across the city from her vantage point. She would look out and see that the spaceport was fine, the blinking lights from the shuttle traffic would scatter across the sky like little stars.
Fidelia threw open the silky curtains and dread consumed her. There was an ominous plume of smoke spewing into the sky right above the spaceport. It was a dark stain against the brilliant orange of the sunset, an ominous cloud painted into her horizon.
The Queen screamed.
Guards came running from across the castle, but Talos had beaten them all to it what with him being right beside The poor Queen. He was the one to catch her as she collapsed in grief, held her as she screamed into her hands. The wailing was, in Talos’s mind, a little dramatic. He had no sympathy, his face stone cold. Minister Senecio was much the same, at least until the guards burst into the room. In front of an audience, the pair were as emotional as etiquette demanded. The last thing they needed was more suspicion aimed their way.
The scene was a carbon copy of the last time Talos had broken the news of a death to Fidelia. When The Pacifist King, Fidelia’s father, had died Fidelia reacted in exactly the same manner. And Talos had been there, just as he was now. He had been the one to break the news to the Princess that morning as she rose, and he had been the one to hold her as the weight of the world crushed her that day too. And he would keep on being there, right by his Queen’s side, as much as he despised her. For it was here, pulling all of the strings, where he could do the most damage when the time came.
The peace talks had gone so well for Vaplana, until the tragedy of Eiasten’s assassination of course. News of that had probably reached home by now, and Malax could clearly picture Fidelia’s despair at losing such a valuable ally and friend. He would visit her immediately once they landed, not just to fill her in but also to comfort her in her grief.
“Thank you. Come on, uncle, let’s strap in.” Brian, noticing that his uncle was far too absorbed in his racing mind to pay notice gently guided the Prime Minister to his seat. There was no pulling him out of such zeal, but that was what Brian was here for. He wondered how the old man before him had managed to bash out such an important deal with the Zetyan diplomat only hours earlier…
Brian took to gazing out of the shuttle window on the descent, his uncle still muttering to himself under his breath and writing down scrawling notes in a little book. That was his planning book. Before the conference, it had been full of his notes on the VDL investigation, but now it was full of names. Spies, Brian noted. Skilled propagandists especially. People his uncle intended to use to aid the Zetyans.
The descent was smooth, the sky outside shifting from the inky darkness of space to the brilliant clear blue of the Vaplanan atmosphere. Not a cloud could be seen for miles around. Brian grinned. Space was wonderful, but there was nothing quite like coming home. He saw the sprawling city of Veulas below him, slowly growing as they approached. The shuttle jolted a little as they touched down, but it was nothing that Brian had not expected. He immediately rose, wanting to feel real ground under his feet. Space had been fun, but Brian was a classic Vaplanan, the natural world was his true home and where he truly belonged.
“Here, if you are to scurry off at least take this with you.” Malax, suddenly snapping out of his daydream, pressed his notebook into his nephew’s hands. “I want you to contact these people, organise the meetings for me. ASAP, please Brian.”
There was no rest for the wicked, Brian thought.
“Of course, uncle, I’ll get to it right away.” Brian nodded, took the small notebook, and quickly disembarked the shuttle. He was the first off, much to his surprise. The staff should already be unloading their bags, so when he was beckoned to the port office by the officials he frowned. He jogged over, eager to show them their landing ID so the crew could get to unload their belongings.
“I am of the Prime Minister Malax Wickford’s party. Did you not receive our landing codes?” Brian asked the confused dockmaster.
“No, I am sorry sir, there was a communications failure. Can I see your-” The conversation was cut short suddenly by a noise so loud it made Brian’s head spin. An unknown force knocked the pair to the ground, and it was a good job that Brian instinctively covered his head with his arms as shrapnel began to rain down on him.
It had felt like an eternity that Brian had been lying on the landing pad. It was only when he tasted blood on his lips that he opened his eyes. The dockmaster was sprawled next to him, impaled by some large metal spike. A pole, or something, Brian could not exactly tell. His vision was blurred, his ears were ringing, and he overall felt like death warmed up. He groaned and slowly rose to his feet, turning back to see nothing but fire and smoke where their shuttle had once been.
His stomach dropped. His uncle had been on the shuttle, he was sure he had not left behind him. He stumbled closer, but could not get close enough to the smouldering wreck due to the heat and smoke billowing into the once-blue sky. Still clutching his uncle’s notebook, Brian Wickford fainted from the shock.
“Your Majesty, may I come in?” A knock at the door. It was early evening, but the Queen was tired and so had retreated to the privacy of her rooms to try and find a little peace after yet another busy day. She had been in the middle of sketching in her design book, trying to design the perfect dress to wear when she could see Lu Xun again…
The Queen sighed. She was never truly off-duty. “Enter.” She rose from her seat, flipping her book shut, safe from prying eyes. She was a little surprised to see Talos and her Transport Minister Artoria Senecio before her, the two had never really crossed paths to her knowledge before.
“I am sorry to disturb Your Majesty at such an hour, but this news cannot wait.” Talos bowed before her, his usual pleasantries dripping from his tongue in a tone that Fidelia had not quite heard from her Spymaster before. It was hard to place, and it made her a little uneasy. Senecio also bowed, but Fidelia noted that her advisor’s eyes never strayed from the Queen, as if she was intently watching Fdelia’s every move. She was tempted to call for her guard to enter, but thought better of it. These were people she should trust, it would do her no good to cause unnecessary offence.
“What news could be so important it cannot wait until morning, Talos?” Fidelia ran her fingers over the sketchbook on the table at her back, wanting desperately to go back to her one escape before the inspiration left her.
“I have news from the Veulas spaceport, Majesty…” Minister Senecio looked to Talos, then back at the Queen again. “About The Prime Minister…”
“Malax? I was told he would be back tomorrow morning!” Fidelia shot a glance at Talos, he had been the one to inform Fidelia of Malax’s return time from the summit. She quickly turned and rushed to her wardrobe, pulling out a warm cloak that was suitable for travel. “Well if he is already back I must go at once and see him! We have so much to discuss!” She grinned. The meeting with Lu Xun and Lu Xiang had gone so well, she could not wait to tell Malax all about it! And she desperately wanted to ask him about all of the conversations he had at the peace talks too, of course.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, but you cannot leave the Palace at this time.” Talos approached and placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder.
“What? Why ever so? I must see Malax at once!”
“He’s dead, Your Majesty… There was an explosion.” Minister Senecio sputtered, not looking Fidelia in the eye. She clutched her cloak closer, looking desperately between Talos and the Minister.
“What? How could that be? No… It's a lie, I will not believe it.” Fidelia snapped, pushing Talos aside and making a dash to her balcony. She had one of the best views of Veulas from her rooms, and she could always see the shuttles landing at the spaceport from across the city from her vantage point. She would look out and see that the spaceport was fine, the blinking lights from the shuttle traffic would scatter across the sky like little stars.
Fidelia threw open the silky curtains and dread consumed her. There was an ominous plume of smoke spewing into the sky right above the spaceport. It was a dark stain against the brilliant orange of the sunset, an ominous cloud painted into her horizon.
The Queen screamed.
Guards came running from across the castle, but Talos had beaten them all to it what with him being right beside The poor Queen. He was the one to catch her as she collapsed in grief, held her as she screamed into her hands. The wailing was, in Talos’s mind, a little dramatic. He had no sympathy, his face stone cold. Minister Senecio was much the same, at least until the guards burst into the room. In front of an audience, the pair were as emotional as etiquette demanded. The last thing they needed was more suspicion aimed their way.
The scene was a carbon copy of the last time Talos had broken the news of a death to Fidelia. When The Pacifist King, Fidelia’s father, had died Fidelia reacted in exactly the same manner. And Talos had been there, just as he was now. He had been the one to break the news to the Princess that morning as she rose, and he had been the one to hold her as the weight of the world crushed her that day too. And he would keep on being there, right by his Queen’s side, as much as he despised her. For it was here, pulling all of the strings, where he could do the most damage when the time came.