Post by ingen on Feb 12, 2024 17:47:11 GMT
ZHANG-YU CASTLE, TAKABARA
Mariko stared in disbelief at the formal response she had received from the Teikoku Gikai, the Jade Assembly. She had informed them that Mitsuyoshi had an unborn heir, fathered on Serashee Krisra of the Minevan Sovereignty, and that until such time as the child was able to assume the throne the Jade Empire should be held in stewardship.
By way of reply the Canton's court had received an official notice that, in the absence of any proof, the Jade Assembly had ratified Sudara Kuribayashi as the new Jade Emperor. At only twelve years of age, her little brother was in no way ready to rule, but the Assembly had solved that problem by appointing Lady Tsumugi Minowara, one of the matriarchs of the powerful Minowara Clan and Sudara's great-aunt on his father's side, as the young boy's guardian and Regent. It was an incredible fait accompli and one that Mariko supposed she should have seen coming. The Jade Assembly had long been frustrated at the royal family's preoccupation with the Ancerious Galaxy, despite the riches the region had brought to the Empire, and an unwatched coop was bound to be plundered sooner or later.
Still, it was unprecedented. Legally speaking, Mariko was in fact next in line to the throne as second-eldest. The official story was that as Countess of the Tourmaline Canton, a vassal state of the Jade Empire, she was ineligible to simultaneously ascend the Jade Throne, but this was spurious. The Jade Empire had never held a vassal state before, preferring to conquer territory and incorporate it directly into the Jade feudal system.
Thousands of lightyears away from Laptev, however, she was unable to raise any real protest. Her father Buntaro, despite being of the Minowara Clan himself, was furious, and was already drawing up plans to return to Laptev and lay claim to the throne on behalf of his unborn grandson.
Mariko was not so sure, however. The last time civil war had struck the Ingenious it had been costly beyond reckoning, despite its brevity and the small size of the revolutionary forces, the Trathiran ethno-nationalists who had been struck down by the full might of the Laptev Axis after the initial shock had worn off.
This time would be different. The Axis had withered, only Imaginarium and Ystovia still present on the homeworld, and many of their best forces were in the Ancerious Galaxy. To make any kind of military move would be to sacrifice the Tourmaline Canton, leaving it exposed in this time of crisis, and would plunge Laptev into a brutal internecine conflict which could engulf it. She was sure her father could make good account of himself, and perhaps even wrest back control of the Jade Empire, but at what cost? Any kind of diplomatic effort would be in vain from her remote, isolated position, but to return to Laptev could be a fatal mistake - she could end up seized and banished to a temple, or worse, if she crossed the Minowara Clan and their newly appointed child emperor.
She glanced up as a courtier announced the arrival of a small group in the antechamber. She nodded approval for them to be admitted to the throne room...
Serashee had seen worse days- her period of grief in its dying throes, and in its place the lingering chill of uncertainty. Her footsteps echoed to the far corners of the throne room as she approached her sister-by-law; though, she knew her place in this family was tenuous at best. What had first been an exciting endeavor had rotted away before her husband's corpse could grow cold. She was an outsider, and her only support was the countess who sat on the throne before her, and her husband's father. The child she carried in her womb had, as she understood, only cursed them both within their clan.
The guilt and anger gutted her, as her violet eyes shot up to Mariko. She forced a weak smile, taking her place before the Canton's ruler with her bodyguard in tow.
Her choice of company was deliberate, as the public response to rumors of a Jade heir alone was concerning; Mitsuyoshi's soon-to-be son was a mongrel bastard of an outsider. The offspring of the immature Emperor's whimsical fling. There were many with whom the prospect of this heir sat correctly- by right and by law- but there were just as many detractors, and some more open than others. Serashee did not care for this child to ascend the throne or not; all that mattered was his safety as a ward of his father's clan.
But would he be safe? Her paranoia made her nauseous. Could she trust yokari samurai and gunmen to protect her, when only even a handful of the Minowara clan had even met her?
Standing abreast from her was a man from Imaginarium- supposedly one of the best that money could buy.
"Mariko," Sera started- foregoing a formal address given their peculiar relationship. Mariko's new role was a trying one. She continued, dryly, "I am happy to see you well. I came as soon as I was sent for- I apologize for my... lethargic condition."
The barrel-chested man from Imaginarium followed, 3 footsteps behind his boss, the client, Serashee. For this client, Radenko Lavic was a tidied man. His beard, salt and peppered with grey amongst the black and brown, was trimmed neat. His rugged fur like coat and hat were gone, replaced by a neat, fit black jacket, with trousers to match. A clean shaven head allowed his age spots to shine through, a sure sign that Radenko was a man with a whole life of experience behind him, though this was probably more shown by the small array scars that littered his body, and the cybernetic left arm, the wrist of which was held behind his back by his natural right hand. A strong, bear of a man, his face had a historic edge, not looking out of place as a trapper from centuries past.
This job, unlike any of the others he had taken since leaving the home world, was one he felt particularly invested in. He’d been a gun for hire and bodyguard for many “interesting” characters over the past few years, though none had made him feel quite so “committed”, as Serashee.
The threat to Serashee's and the young life she carried looms like a dark cloud over them, casting a shadow of fear over Radenko's heart. Being a former tool of the Imaginese State, he was experienced in dealings with the Jade Empire. However when it came to this supposed succession crisis, limited though his knowledge was on the entire board the game was played upon, he could not fathom why such Serashee and the young life could be a threat.
This was something that he must protect. Like a mother bear, fiercely protective of her cub, willing to lay down his life to keep her safe. It simply felt like a moral obligation.
And so, Radenko, a steadfast guardian, followed his client, through the halls of Jade crafted marvels. It was impressive, though the Jade Empire never did create anything that looked poor. He was not experienced in airs and graces of court life, but knew enough that he would remain quiet until spoken to, doing his job, ensuring nothing got to Serashee.
Blight...didnt get politics. Not really. She could understand how parliaments worked, republics, constitutions. The idea of a line of succession made sense to her but they quickly got too complicated for her fairly straightforward mindset.
No, it was when emotion and agenda got involved and everything got orders of magnitude more convoluted as everyone in the room started twisting things for their own ends that government in practice stopped making sense to Blight.
So, it made sense that in a system of politics as twisty and turny as the Jade court that Blight had barely any idea what was going on at any given time.
What she knew was that she was Mariko's friend and bodyguard, and more recently a pal of her dad's too, and that Mariko was in effect the ruling head of the Canton. At least until a sibling was of age to ascend the throne, though Blight didn't see what was wrong with Mariko holding power.
And now that was at risk? She thought? Or, the throne back in their home was. Again, the black haired android didn't quite grasp the politics at play.
What she knew was that she had a simple job to do in all this:
Keep Mariko Kuribayashi safe.
So, beside her, the tall android stood dressed in...perhaps not the most flavourful garb a royal bodyguard could buy or could consider acceptable, but clothes that accented her well, her nodachi belted to her side, a hand resting softly on its grip.
Many in the Canton didn't take too well to Serashee, an outsider that had gained the hand of the Emperor of all people. But, Blight was a fellow outsider, if one of wildly different background. But if nothing else, they shared that one similarity.
As the woman entered, Blight spared her a warm smile and a soft nod.
She would've said hello, but she'd been reprimanded a few times now for speaking out of turn, and she was finally getting the message.
Mariko offered a wan smile. She knew the poor Minevan was struggling, thrust into the heart of an alien culture and alien political system and suddenly cast adrift, alone. By law they were sisters, but it took time to build those bonds and she didn't blame Sera for finding it hard to feel safe. Even her protector, a man Mariko vaguely recognised as being involved with the discovery of Kurukshetra, a minor Unaligned planet that had proven to be rich in foodstuffs and saltpeter, would be alien to her. He looked dependable though, a grizzled Imaginese man, somehow trim and rugged at once. His eyes spoke of a lifetime of experience. She doubted anything he heard would surprise him, nor did she suspect would he be inclined to repeat Sera's secrets.
She wouldn't do Sera any favours by beating around the bush, however. She gestured for Sera to sit and then pulled up the communique on a larger holoprojector. It was in Ingenious, the squiggly lines no doubt impenetrable to Sera - even if she had set about learning the language when she first met Mitsuyoshi, the Jade Assembly wrote in a prosaic, almost medieval style that was hard to decipher for the average Ingenious, let alone outsiders. Instead, she summarized.
"The Jade Assembly...the council of nobles that advises the Throne...they have rejected your child's claim to the throne. They deny you are even pregnant. They have bypassed me too, they say I can't hold two titles at once. They've selected little Sudara as the next Jade Emperor instead, and set one of themselves up as Regent."
She paused, letting Sera take it all in. Beside her, Buntaro restrained himself from comment. He knew that too heavy a hand wouldn't help Mariko in the long run, and the death of his son had shaken him. It could just as well have been him, and whilst death in battle was nothing to be ashamed of, the sheer unexpected nature of Mitsuyoshi's death had rattled Buntaro's faith in Ingenious martial invincibility. Not that he would admit such.
Serashee's pallid face fell flush with anger- her immediate reaction a small scoff. A woman of long-winded wordiness, her mouth fell open; for a moment, all she could offer was a deafening silence. The remark had brought her hand on the robes over her belly, which had already begun to swell and show. The Jade ruling family was largely silent towards her; now, they spit on her husband's legacy.
"Yes. Of course. Such a farce," She remarked, lips pursed. Her words were loose, not held as tightly by the trappings of nobility or decorum. "They deny me- this is inconsequential to me. But they would deny his son?"
The Minevan women's jaw was clenched, biting back daming words. Tears threatened to well in her eyes. She looked back to Radenko, then about the room. "What is our recourse now? What am I to do?
Radenko only understood the relationships between Serashee and Mariko on a fundamental level. She had explained it to him, the two were as good as family, albeit this was a new and developing relationship. She did however express that she had complete trust in Mariko. If Mariko said, she would jump off a high cliff into the deep ocean, knowing that they would be there to catch her and guide her safely to shore. Therefore, Radenko trusted in Mariko.
It pained him to therefore hear her words, see the pain on Serashee’s face as she turned to him, and to understand what this meant for all of them. A denial against the unborn son would all but confirm Serashee’s suspicions and fears. Could they now actually be a target, a threat to the throne in the Imperial City?
He maintained a stern expression, his eyes meeting Serashee’s before darting from Mariko, her accompanying bodyguard (Blight), and back to Serashee, who turned back to the room. What was her recourse now? An younger Radenko would have suggested outright vengeance, a dagger to the heart of those who besmirched her. In age and wisdom, he knew such a folly would be catastrophic. They had to be smarter. Protect her. Protect the child.
His eyes fixed on Mariko, the source of the words, and the person Serashee trusted impeccably. ‘What is the recourse, Mariko?’ he thought.
Blight's brow furrowed as Mariko spoke, musing on the situation at hand, the apertures of her red eyes dilating and constricting as something whirred faintly from within the android's metal skull.
As much as she was built for war, she could never even consider the thought of violence or cruelty against children, and even if she did, she'd at least try and have the integrity to look them or their family in the eyes first.
She supposed some of it was the distances involved, but the cold, dismissive apathy of it bugged her. It was easier to simply cast the outsider and her child out with a message rather than to muster the backbone to say it over a comm, let alone in person, she guessed. Or the notion hadn't even occurred to them.
She didn't know which possibility she liked less.
At any rate. Letting Serashee go into the wild world beyond would, likely at least, keep them safe from the threat of Imperial retribution; out of sight, hopefully out of mind. But the Minevan had already said before she wanted her child to be a ward of the family, and that was far from an unreasonable ask. Keeping them here made things risky.
Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Blight's fingers rapped against the grip of her sword as her mind raced.
Her mouth opened slightly, pausing and closing again, before opening again.
"...Forgive me, for speaking out of turn or if I sound stupid, but..."
A beat.
"How does one deny someone is pregnant? Sure they haven't seen Serashee," she nodded in the Minevan woman's direction, her eyes drifting downwards and then in the direction of the throne, if not Mariko directly.
"But surely we have medical records, right? Xrays and such? I'd think it a little harder to dismiss that, right?" she suggested, finally her eyes settling on Mariko proper.
"...Or is it not that simple?"
Buntaro shook his head. "No, it is not. They know just as well as we that Serashee is carrying Mitsuyoshi's child, but they have decided upon a different course of action and now the truth must bend to match that course. They are relying on the force of wa, of harmony, to make it difficult for us to oppose them. They have set the course of the Heiwa o hakobu kawa, the River of Peaceful Conveyance, and now to change what is we would have to dam up that river."
He paused, aware that these metaphorical concepts so familiar to the Ingenious could be somewhat opaque to foreigners.
"They have moved first and now to contradict them would be to rock the boat." he rephrased. "As for our recourse..."
He gave Mariko the faintest nod, passing the conch to her. She closed her eyes and sighed, taking a moment before opening them again and fixing her dark gaze on Sera.
"We don't really have many options. Any diplomatic efforts will be wasted unless we go to Laptev in person, and that'd put you at serious risk. We could press the matter by force, but even if we won we would've left Canton unprotected and would've shed far too much Jade blood before it was all over."
She leaned over and took Sera's hand. "I think you should stay here, with us. Between the Canton, the Minevans and the Imaginese, you're surrounded by allies who can look after you and the little one, lightyears away from the politics of the Jade Palace on Laptev."
Sera drew a deep breath, grateful at the android's interjection on her behalf and absorbing the depth of Buntaro's reply: realpolitik, a detestable practice to her, but a reality nonetheless. She gripped her sister-in-laws hand firmly, grounding herself. A pinch to the bridge of her nose helped relieved the mounting pressure of her obvious frustration.
She felt her skin cool, a few breaths bringing her down to address this maturely.
"You are too gracious, Mariko, Buntaro. I am indebted to you, interceding on our behalf," Serashee was deliberate to reference the unborn as well, "I intend to stay, then. I care little for thrones, little for claims. He should be raised with his family. Not in the void among the Vagrant Fleets under some chief."
But still, the thought lingered upon her. "If... their stance is to reject us- what would their recourse be, then?"
Mariko wrinkled her nose, fighting back tears. The thought of the Jade Empire actually taking action against them was too much - she had done well at handling her grief, but the overturning of everything she thought she knew was jolting her to the core.
Buntaro spotted his daughter's hesitation and stepped in. "It shames me to say it, but they may seek to intervene directly. Assassination is not beyond the realm of imagination."
He indicated Blight, Radenko and the Dragon Banner guards scattered across the room. "We will be ready to meet them. I understand the Imaginese have prepared a safe house for you. We shall do the same. We are building a new fastness in the mountains west of the city, and you will have quarters there."
The thought had certainly crossed Sera's mind, but to hear the eupemism be killed directly had her head begin to spin. She felt the pressure on her face, and the chill of fear shoot through her. They were all in danger- and it was her fault to bear.
She imagined, for a moment, how Mitsuyoshi would have reacted to such an idea- perhap he'd have stormed the Imperial seat, or have the dissenters split their bellies in shame. In a way, this cruel situation made sense; the members of the ruling dynasty were bold, if nothing else.
"I never meant to bring this upon us," She said, in a meek manner unbeffiting the adventurer that she was. "I have burdened you all so much."
"You have done nothing of the sort," Buntaro replied. "You have blessed us with a grandchild."
SOME TIME LATER
The Dragonsong Keep was an imposing structure. Not yet complete, it still towered over the valley below. A vast gatehouse was the only way in to the complex, which perched on a mountainside that rose hundreds of meters from its surroundings. Lights and lanterns on its flanks glittered against the cloudy afternoon, whilst behind it yet more towers were being built. The road towards it was single-lane, and as they flew overhead they could see a steady stream of work vehicles delivering supplies to the foot of the site.
Ahead of them, a landing platform was artfully concealed inside a siheyuan styled courtyard house, itself layered inside the geometric puzzle of the growing palace. The aircar came to a gentle stop, buffeted a little by the winds that fretted this high above the ground.
A Dragon Banner soldier stepped down first, helmet panning across the grounds and the staff waiting for them, then turned and gave a nod to the rest of the passengers. Mariko had made the trip along with Serashee, whilst Buntaro had remained in the capital, fifteen minutes' flight away. The Dragonsong Keep was to be the permanent home of the Countess, giving Zhang-Yu Castle over to civil administration as the Canton grew and its staff needed more and more space.
Mariko followed him down, the wind ruffling her hair. She turned to take in the central keep to her left, even higher above them. It was complete, or at least it looked like it, and it clung to the side of the mountain peak itself, almost seeming to defy gravity. The peoples of the Empire had always been prone to grandiose architecture, but the Ingenious style was typically horizontal rather than vertical...
Sera had been silent throughout the journey, the depths of her frustration only disturbed by the view of the compound- the view of her home for what was the foreseeable future. For a fleeting moment, her heart gave its last protest for the freedom of movement that all Minevans yearned for. Once the aircar had touched down in the courtyard, her fate was sealed; she was committed to the castle and solely in the trust of her host.
The architecture was neither familiar nor comfortable to a spacer such as herself- the ostentatious presentation and oppressive heights in contrast to her home of comfortable, if labyrinthian, compartments. She mused that at the very least, a threat within these grounds would be forced to make itself known, whereas the cramped nature of Minevan architecture invited a fair amount of skullduggery.
Sera rose after her sister-in-law, grasping the handle by the door. A foot reached out towards the ground below, and a frustrated hand reached towards the Imaginese bear of a man by her.
"Ah, Mr. Lavic. If you would be so gracious?"
So, that was it then. Assassination. Or at least, the confirmed risk of assassination for Sera and the young life. As the car floated across the landscape, drifting towards the Dragonsong Keep, Radenko came to the realisation that he was in this job for the long haul. Afterall, Sera and the baby especially would be a continual threat to the Imperial Throne, or at least, he assumed that was how the Jade Empire would view things. If that was to be the case, then this Keep, this castle built out of a mountain, would be his home, just as much as Sera’s. He could think of worse places to live.
He was familiar with the grandiose and magnificent architectural building style that the Jade Empire perfected. He had spend 2 years during his younger days in the Imperial City itself, part of the KOMITET and Axis detachment that could be found amongst the various cities on Laptev, in the form of intelligence system foreign exchanges, and marvelled at their ingenuity. But, as grand as they were, the buildings were also extremely functional. He knew the Keep itself would present itself as a sturdy home, and with the right staff, a safe fortress for Sera and the youngster. He would make it so.
As the car drifted to a stop, he promptly exited the vehicle on Sera’s command. He knew his comrades back home would laugh and scoff at the chivalry and servitude of opening a door for such a noble. He put such thoughts to the back of his mind however.
“Yes, of course. My Lady.”
My Lady? His 2 years in the Imperial City had taught him some of the protocols of court life, but he never had imagined them being part and parcel of his day to day structure.
He placed a hand on the door, holding it open, before offering his own hand to meet the outstretched hand of Sera, helping her to leave the car.
As the group assembled, a vast figured ducked out of the shadow of one of the colonnades. The Dragon Banner with them stiffened momentarily but then relaxed as the pale sunlight washed over the hulking figure.
Around seven feet tall and nearly as wide, what approached them seemed to be a man made of gold, almost comical in his rotund features. A smiling face, glinting in the light, above limbs encased in golden armour beneath which scarlet-red cords spoke of artificial muscle and sinew. A vast metal belly led the figure's way, its steps sending faint reverberations across the flagstones beneath their feet. Around his waist and over his shoulders, a jinbaori coat and loose pants in deep midnight blue were fringed with ornate white embroidery, whilst along his arms and forehead kanji runes glowed, lit from within in oranges and pinks.
He stopped before them and offered a bow, and then in an airy, etheral voice he spoke.
"Greetings and welcome, Your Grace. Let me show you to your quarters."
Without another word he turned, elegant despite his bulk, and began to walk back the way he had come. He was an Ancestor Frame, the mind of a deceased yokari transferred from its Soul Vault into its final receptacle. The procedure could not be performed again, Frames unable to store and impart consciousness in the same way a living brain could, but this man had chosen to linger in the mortal realm a while longer, serving the Canton and the Jade Empire still.
Catching a glance from Sera, Mariko translated some of the glowing kanji, explaining that they marked him as a mortal, not an Artificial Intelligence and that his name in life had been Geng Da, a court official who had 'translated' at the age of seventy-one. As was custom, he would keep living until his Ancestor Frame was damaged beyond repair, or else he chose to voluntarily depart the mortal realms
Blight had stepped off last, both to trail the assembly out of the vehicle and--to her misfortune--because she'd gotten her shoe caught in the door, stumbling first to free herself and then to get the shoe back on.
Her head then turned up, her hair marginally disheveled by the stumble, as she observed the architecture.
To call Orphoni's style brutalist wasn't quite fair. Sure, its core structure was very blocky and spartan, pragmatic and practical, but they then laced it with too many details and glowing bands to really fit what most would label the underlying architecture.
Ingenious--or Cantonese, whichever term one preferred--architecture was a stark contrast, and one Blight was still sometimes thrown off by, the android occasionally getting lost at the hands of local layout norms not matching her home, winding up on a balcony or in a side building where she had been expecting a passageway.
And then there was this, which while retaining the architecture stood out again, thanks to the surrounding environment making certain demands of it.
She'd been about to ask how long it had been under construction, when the golden figure made his presence known.
She blinked once, then twice, as she caught up with Mariko, watching him turn and lead on ahead.
"I, uh...huh. I didn't know you had things like him. Not used to being the shortest and---uh...construct, in the room."
EVENING
The painstakingly long day was coming to a close; a welcome end to the journey from Zhang-Yu Castle to their new keep. It had dawned on Serashee that she was now committed to the living situation, the robbing of her choice leaving her with, after everything else, a general sense of unease. She was a drifter- as was how she'd met her late husband- and locked in the proverbial tallest tower, indefinitely. No matter the hospitality of the retinue of servants and guardians, this perfect alignment of unfortunate circumstances forged her into a cold guest at best.
On one of the high terraces nearest her quarters, Sera watched the amber sun gently sink into the horizon. Behind an ornate rail, a temperate mountain breeze lapped gently. The weather and scene over the region surrounding Takabara was nothing short of perfect and breathtaking. Surely, it would be a mild night as well.
The word 'assassin' had stiffened her lip since it was first uttered that morning, and the thought had crossed her mind concerning her position in the open. She buried the notion with the excuse of her bodyguard being practically within arm's reach. The others were sorting their affairs, Sera unsure if the Countess and her own retinue would be joining them.
"Mr. Lavic," She said, eyes only glancing back from the horizon to pique Radenko's attention, "It appears we will be here for quite some time; taking care of my family. Forgive my intrusion- do you have family?"
As the day passed, Radenko had become more acquainted with the castle. It had proven to be as secure as he had hoped, at least from his initial scout around the place that afternoon, though he still had made a polite request for more security to be posted, under his watch. He felt the need for “independent” guards was a must. There was no telling how compromised Canton security could be, and he felt his job would be far easy with a crew of people he trusted. He had already begun drafting up a list of ex-comrades he had worked with in the past, from the comfort of his quaint lodgings within the castle.
As evening approached, he had found himself once again at Sera’s side. The stress of the day had weighed heavily upon her, he knew. Clearly deep in thought of her own situation, her ties and loyalties, she asked him of his own situation.
“I do, my lady.”He replied to her, cautious in his words, thick accented. “A sister, only. We are…somewhat estranged I am afraid to say…”
A fleeting smirk graced Sera's lips, likely her happiest expression in recent memory. The honorifics- she would never get used to them. Truthfully, she wished to do away with them; she was unsure of the polite or proper way to get it to stop, without getting those around her into issues for lack of decorum. "I understand. Truthfully, we are alike. I am no noblewoman."
She'd paused for a moment, considering his reluctance. The man was a professional, through and through. Sera sighed.
"My only family is this child, and Mariko; even then I've only known her a year. We are both drifters in odd places, no?" Sera's rust-colored eyes scanned Radenko from head to toe, offering her best guess.
“We may both be drifters, ma’am, but perhaps a better way to look at this is that you are standing at the edge of a vast and uncharted sea. This place is peculiar as to you as it is to me, but this is just the start of the journey, ma’am, for you and the young one, and who knows of what family you will gain along the way.”
He paused, considering whether his words were out of place. He looked back into Sera’s face, who seemed open to his musings, as cheap as they probably were to her.
“What I mean to say, if you will…permit…is that today we have entered a dark forest, which becomes familiar with each step. But you are not walking alone.” He gave her a nod of comfort.
Poetry and allegory, almost unbefitting such a man. Even now, the people she met continued to surprise her.
"It is reassuring that I am no longer a fish on dry land, alone. Just a few weeks ago, things would be so simple," She mused, "I am grateful to have you accompany me. Your presence is enriching."
Sera's normal cadence and peculiar vernacular was returning to her, the longer she remained in the company of the Imaginese man. Radenko was older, grizzled. He carried the air of a father, both in his imposing figure and his commanding demeanor; only alone could she see the softness on the edges of a compassionate and refined man.
"The night is young," Sera remarked, turning to watch the laster of the amber sun flash under the horizon. "The day has been long. I think I may retire soon."
ELSEWHERE
Verma was a ruin of a woman. Cast out by her own kind, she had still been heartbroken when the High Imperium had fallen, the rotten decadence pervading its foundations no longer capable of supporting the weight of its sins and perversions. She had tried to find solace amongst the Ingenious and her friends at the Imperial Court, but had found herself frozen out. The Shadow's display of pique in front of the Jade Empress had made her persona non grata it seemed, despite everything she had been through. Despite everything she had done for the ungrateful little brat Mariko.
She had shed no tears at the news that Takara had been murdered. Pompous bitch. The Jade Empire's hold on Ancerious was crumbling, and Verma's own hurt had gradually turned to contempt as she sneered at the struggles of the yokari. Their pale attempts at imitating the greatness of the Dreft were laughable.
For all the Canton's woes, Verma was also ekeing out a living, as a mercenary. She had been surprised to receive this contract, but the longer she thought on it the more sense it made to her. It felt like destiny.
Hidden inside an airtruck, she felt the gentle shuddering of its propulsion systems as it changed gear. They were approaching the castle. She prayed that the information she'd received had been correct. A traitor in the castle was working the delivery bay today, would ensure the scans of this truck were not examined too closely, would make sure the crate she was crouched inside was left unattended in a storage area.
After what seemed like an age, she heard the clatter of boots and chatter of idle voices as the crates were unlocked from their moorings and hauled off to their destinations. She cradled her head as her crate rattled for some time, before clanking to a halt. Eventually the sounds stopped, footsteps receding to leave her in silence. Resisting the temptation to release herself, she waited for what seemed like an age until there was a scraping noise and sudden light washed over her.
A yokari, nervous and twitchy, peered down at her.
"Come on, quick! Get out!" he snapped, earning a foul glare from the warrior. She hauled herself out, finding that she was facing a half-dozen grim-looking marines as well, in red-and-gold parade livery. One of them tossed a gun to her, some kind of carbine with a couple of spare mags strapped to the stock.
She checked it over and then nodded to the man. His expression was hidden behind his sleek helmet, and he responded only with a jerk of his head. The group set off, the civilian who had freed her disappearing already. They passed through seemingly endless corridors, many still under construction. At one point a surprised man in hi-vis gear stepped out in front of them, his uncertain greeting silenced by a brutal punch from Verma's mechanical arm, his corpse bundled beneath a tarpaulin.
The marines with her were her surety, and before long they reached a set of stairs which led to Sera's chambers. They took position either side, pretending to keep watch, waiting in silence until a quartet of marines marched towards them, relief for the sentries upstairs. They waited until the group was in their midst, and in eerie silence fell upon their victims, bayoneting and knifing them before they could cry out. The assassins immediately turned and headed upstairs, knowing they had only moments before their crimes were discovered. They approached the guards outside Sera's door and were only feet away when one of them, nodding in greeting, noticed the blood splashed across the gilded vambrace of his supposed comrade.
He yelled out, his gun whipping up, but the range was too close. A burst of gunfire deafened everyone as the attackers swamped the guards, killing them in seconds, but the damage was done and already an alarm was blaring in the castle. They knew they were working on borrowed time and so, at Verma's direction, they began to lay a breaching charge at Sera's door....
Sera shot up from her bed with a start. The report of gunfire deafened the air, the eerie moment of quiet quickly supplanted by the clattering on the ornate door. Sera's eyes shot towards a heavy set of double doors- her chambers connected to a small terrace on the outside, with tiny perches and outcroppings adorning the castle's walls. Sera's rust-colored eyes shot back, now fixed wide upon her rumbling chamber door. Disbelief and denial crashed on her like a wave- Here? Now? So quickly? Mere hours since the official message and the Jade Assembly had already sentenced them to death.
Images played in her head; the bombing on Marchand followed by Mitsuyoshi slaying foes in the bullets and haze, the assault on Whitewharf where they strode through a field of bombs and corpses- all conflict of the recent past now culminating in rapping on her door in a quiet, dimly-lit castle corridor.
Herein lie her issue. Her own skills were the product of her blood; blood she now shared with an unborn life. To conjure up a ward or to atomize an assailant was to harm herself, let alone the potential towards her son. She was already out of her bed, shuffling towards the doors to the terrace in the far corner. Her hands were raised out of instinct, absently tracing the somatic components of her Khaltic Arts; she reluctantly forced herself to stop.
Instead, the double-doors hissed open and the cool night air embraced her- wind lapping at her gown. She looked left and right, and it seemed the only way to maneuver was small lips in the architecture one could barely fit a hand over. Her teeth gritted, as she desperately scanned for a safer way.
Radenko bolted upright. He hadn’t fallen to sleep just yet, his mind contemplating the long day that they had all experienced, but now at the loud sounds emitting from the hall, his mind raced. Was it gunfire? It sounded like gunfire. He hadn’t expected the assassination attempt to come so soon, after all, it had all been conjecture this afternoon. This was a misstep perhaps on his part.
Something was happening outside his doors. His room was small and simple, just as he liked it. A single bed was the main piece of furniture, that almost ran the length of the space, a thin desk laying opposite, and a footlocker at the beds end. It had reminded him of his accommodation during his early years in the academy, but nostalgia aside, there was a functional reason for liking small space. Everything was within reach.
His revolver, an old school Dyuna Frontier 2457 Model C lay, loaded on the bed desk, a bottle of Red Steysi (Imaginarium’s premier vodka brand) next to it, unopened, all within a hands reach, and reach for them Radenko did.
He launched to his feet, revolver in his right hand, bottle gripped tightly in his robotic left. With a violent kick, he burst through his door, and out into the corridor to greet whatever dangerous commotion disturbed the night, and sent the alarms into thunderous rapture.
The view from the terrace was no doubt impressive, but unfortunately it offered few avenues of escape. Nearby rooms had their own balconies, indeed the whole thing was designed as a terraced walkway hanging from the side of the building, but there were intentional gaps in the walkway between each room, aesthetic and cultural needs giving way to security.
It was just too far to leap unaided, although there was wooden decoration that could possibly be used as a handhold by someone with no fear of heights and a bucket full of luck.
Below her there were no further balconies for some distance, a narrow lip of rock half a dozen meters down giving way to the immense precipice on which the castle was built. To her left, another wing of the castle, an open walkway halfway up its flank, distant figures visible...
IN THE CORRIDOR
Radenko did not know it, but he had been blessed with unbelievable luck. The attackers triggered their breaching charge at the same time he crashed through his own door, the sound and smoke of their assault masking the cacophony of the Imaginese mercenary ploughing through solid wood with nothing but raw strength and willpower.
Shaking himself free of the detritus, Radenko spotted the backs of the assassins as they began to file through the broken door into Mariko's apartment..
Radenko's heart raced as he stood in the hallway, his senses heightened by the chaos unfolding before him. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, blending with the scent of his own anxiety. Gripping the bottle of Vodka tightly, he took a moment to steady his hands.
With his eyes fixed on the backs of what he assumed were assassins, Radenko knew he had to act swiftly to protect Sera. The adrenaline surged through his veins, pushing him forward as he moved through the narrow corridor. The thud of his boots against the floor masked his presence amidst the commotion of the assassins breaking through into the apartment.
As he closed in on the intruders, Radenko's mind raced, calculating his options. A plan formed in his head, fuelled by determination and the growing loyalty he held for Sera. He tightened his grip on the revolver, his knuckles turning white. It was time to show these assassins what he was made of.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Radenko sprang into action. With a surge of agility, he lunged towards the closest intruder, his vodka bottle swinging through the air. The weapon connected with a satisfying thud, shattering against the assailant's head, sending him staggering backward.
Radenko's movements were fluid and calculated. He quickly shifted his attention to the next target, his revolver blazing to life. His finger squeezed the trigger with practiced precision. The metallic tang of gunpowder mingled with the scent of vodka, creating a heady mixture that seemed to fuel Radenko's determination.
Sera wobbled above the fatal fall, her bare feet struck by the icy cold of the railing she balanced on. Her hand was firmly planted on the castle's outer wall for support. A jolt of panic spiked her blood, her heart working overtime to course the adrenaline in her veins. For a moment, she glanced over her shoulders toward her other options; back through the room, tumble to the distant walkway of the castle wing below.... certain death.
Now!
In her mind, she bucked her legs and reached out towards the sturdy wooden ornament, an outcropping just at the edge of her reach. Her body, however, was locked firmly in place, wide eyes shooting down to the drop.
NOW!
Sera grimaced as the wind dangerously nudged her forward. She drew a last, deep breath, and she took her leap.
Her hands met sturdy wood right as the explosive charge had blown in her chamber door. The flash had illuminated her terrace, followed immediately by a plume of smoke and ash being drawn out into the open night sky. With a new sense of purpose, Sera began to shimmy to the other end of the solid ornamentation, one sure death-grip after the next. If she could get to the next balcony and into the next room, she could buy another handful of vital seconds to live. Another handful of seconds for Radenko to swoop in.
The second jump was easier to resolve, the heart pounding in her ears dulling her objections; Sera let out a cry as she pushed herself from the protrusion and the wall, and her arms reached out for ice-cold stone.
In the blink of an eye, two attackers were down already. One was on the ground writhing, shards of glass in his face, looking for all the world like the victim of a barroom brawl. The second had toppled wordlessly, a clean shot that had punched through helmet at point blank range, falling like a marionette with the strings cut.
Verma acted on instinct, springing through the door to put space between her and the threat. The other marines span, trying to make sense of the new presence in their midst. One lashed out with a rifle butt, acting completely through muscle memory as a target loomed large in his vision.
Sera found herself on the next balcony over, the door to the interior shut. Wind whipped at her hair, shouts echoing across the vast open spaces. Far above she saw a small aircraft spooling up on a pad that jutted from the side of the primary keep/
Pain exploded through Radenko as the rifle butt connected with his chest. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp, involuntary exhale. For a moment, his vision swam, and he fought through the disorientation that threatened to cloud his thoughts.
“какая-то шлюха!” he wheezed in his native tongue.
But Radenko was not one to stay down for long. With gritted teeth, he focused his gaze on the Marine who had struck him. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he registered the man's surprised expression, his eyes widening beneath the helmet.
Drawing on sheer determination and adrenaline, Radenko lunged forward, his fists flying like a whirlwind. He didn't have time to think, to strategize. It was a raw, primal instinct taking over. One fist crashed into the Marine's helmet, denting it with a resounding thud. Radenko's knuckles protested the impact, but he pushed through the pain.
The Marine staggered back, momentarily dazed, his rifle slipping from his grip. Radenko didn't let up. He pressed the attack, throwing a quick jab to the Marine's midsection, a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand. His chest still ached from the rifle blow, and his movements were far from graceful, but determination burned in his eyes.
Amidst the chaos of the scuffle, Radenko's gaze darted to the female figure now at the heart of the attackers. She must be the one orchestrating this assault, he assumed, the one who had dared to breach Sera's sanctum. A ruthless adversary, he imagined.
The marine doubled up, dropping to one knee, dazed and breathless. Behind him, Verma and two of the marines slipped inside the door and disappeared from sight.
The last standing marine hesitated for a moment, then thumbed his bayonet into life, a short spike of yellow light shimmering into existence and casting flickering shadows over the chaotic scene. He lunged towards Radenko, his weapon looking for all the world like a snake pouncing on its victim.
Radenko caught the rifle by the barrel, slipping past the bayonet, and then tumbled to the ground, tugging the rifle with him. The traitor marine stumbled and Radenko used the reprieve to snatch up his revolver. A round caught the winded marine in the chest, hurling him to the ground, and as the last regained his balance and rounded on Radenko a shot punched through his neck. Frozen for an instant, he slowly toppled. Radenko wasted no time, bursting free of the tangle of corpses and rushing through the doorway in pursuit of Verma.
He found her perched on one foot on the balcony, staring out across the yawning abyss below. Serashee was nowhere to be seen, but when he finally reactivated the castle's battlenet he caught the chatter of a squadron on the floor below that had located her safely.
He stopped, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, before beginning to reload his revolver purposefully. Verma did not immediately react, but eventually turned a baleful eye back to Radenko. Her face betrayed a poorly-controlled rage. Radenko could only imagine the time and energy that had been expended to get Verma to this point, only for her to fail at the last hurdle. The culmination of months, maybe even years, of seething rage and obsession, deceit and murder, her mission had ended here, at a very literal dead-end. He had never met Verma before, but he had read the dossier.
"It's over. Put your weapons down." he grunted, snapping the revolver's cylinder into place and levelling it at her.
Verma stared back at him. She seemed to be struggling for a response, eventually settling simply for spitting on the ground. Radenko's finger squeezed on the trigger as he saw Verma's muscles tense like a mountain lynx. There was a deafening boom as the revolver went off, Verma springing off the railing at the same moment.
Radenko rushed after her, but she had already fallen through the mists below and out of sight....
Mariko stared in disbelief at the formal response she had received from the Teikoku Gikai, the Jade Assembly. She had informed them that Mitsuyoshi had an unborn heir, fathered on Serashee Krisra of the Minevan Sovereignty, and that until such time as the child was able to assume the throne the Jade Empire should be held in stewardship.
By way of reply the Canton's court had received an official notice that, in the absence of any proof, the Jade Assembly had ratified Sudara Kuribayashi as the new Jade Emperor. At only twelve years of age, her little brother was in no way ready to rule, but the Assembly had solved that problem by appointing Lady Tsumugi Minowara, one of the matriarchs of the powerful Minowara Clan and Sudara's great-aunt on his father's side, as the young boy's guardian and Regent. It was an incredible fait accompli and one that Mariko supposed she should have seen coming. The Jade Assembly had long been frustrated at the royal family's preoccupation with the Ancerious Galaxy, despite the riches the region had brought to the Empire, and an unwatched coop was bound to be plundered sooner or later.
Still, it was unprecedented. Legally speaking, Mariko was in fact next in line to the throne as second-eldest. The official story was that as Countess of the Tourmaline Canton, a vassal state of the Jade Empire, she was ineligible to simultaneously ascend the Jade Throne, but this was spurious. The Jade Empire had never held a vassal state before, preferring to conquer territory and incorporate it directly into the Jade feudal system.
Thousands of lightyears away from Laptev, however, she was unable to raise any real protest. Her father Buntaro, despite being of the Minowara Clan himself, was furious, and was already drawing up plans to return to Laptev and lay claim to the throne on behalf of his unborn grandson.
Mariko was not so sure, however. The last time civil war had struck the Ingenious it had been costly beyond reckoning, despite its brevity and the small size of the revolutionary forces, the Trathiran ethno-nationalists who had been struck down by the full might of the Laptev Axis after the initial shock had worn off.
This time would be different. The Axis had withered, only Imaginarium and Ystovia still present on the homeworld, and many of their best forces were in the Ancerious Galaxy. To make any kind of military move would be to sacrifice the Tourmaline Canton, leaving it exposed in this time of crisis, and would plunge Laptev into a brutal internecine conflict which could engulf it. She was sure her father could make good account of himself, and perhaps even wrest back control of the Jade Empire, but at what cost? Any kind of diplomatic effort would be in vain from her remote, isolated position, but to return to Laptev could be a fatal mistake - she could end up seized and banished to a temple, or worse, if she crossed the Minowara Clan and their newly appointed child emperor.
She glanced up as a courtier announced the arrival of a small group in the antechamber. She nodded approval for them to be admitted to the throne room...
Serashee had seen worse days- her period of grief in its dying throes, and in its place the lingering chill of uncertainty. Her footsteps echoed to the far corners of the throne room as she approached her sister-by-law; though, she knew her place in this family was tenuous at best. What had first been an exciting endeavor had rotted away before her husband's corpse could grow cold. She was an outsider, and her only support was the countess who sat on the throne before her, and her husband's father. The child she carried in her womb had, as she understood, only cursed them both within their clan.
The guilt and anger gutted her, as her violet eyes shot up to Mariko. She forced a weak smile, taking her place before the Canton's ruler with her bodyguard in tow.
Her choice of company was deliberate, as the public response to rumors of a Jade heir alone was concerning; Mitsuyoshi's soon-to-be son was a mongrel bastard of an outsider. The offspring of the immature Emperor's whimsical fling. There were many with whom the prospect of this heir sat correctly- by right and by law- but there were just as many detractors, and some more open than others. Serashee did not care for this child to ascend the throne or not; all that mattered was his safety as a ward of his father's clan.
But would he be safe? Her paranoia made her nauseous. Could she trust yokari samurai and gunmen to protect her, when only even a handful of the Minowara clan had even met her?
Standing abreast from her was a man from Imaginarium- supposedly one of the best that money could buy.
"Mariko," Sera started- foregoing a formal address given their peculiar relationship. Mariko's new role was a trying one. She continued, dryly, "I am happy to see you well. I came as soon as I was sent for- I apologize for my... lethargic condition."
The barrel-chested man from Imaginarium followed, 3 footsteps behind his boss, the client, Serashee. For this client, Radenko Lavic was a tidied man. His beard, salt and peppered with grey amongst the black and brown, was trimmed neat. His rugged fur like coat and hat were gone, replaced by a neat, fit black jacket, with trousers to match. A clean shaven head allowed his age spots to shine through, a sure sign that Radenko was a man with a whole life of experience behind him, though this was probably more shown by the small array scars that littered his body, and the cybernetic left arm, the wrist of which was held behind his back by his natural right hand. A strong, bear of a man, his face had a historic edge, not looking out of place as a trapper from centuries past.
This job, unlike any of the others he had taken since leaving the home world, was one he felt particularly invested in. He’d been a gun for hire and bodyguard for many “interesting” characters over the past few years, though none had made him feel quite so “committed”, as Serashee.
The threat to Serashee's and the young life she carried looms like a dark cloud over them, casting a shadow of fear over Radenko's heart. Being a former tool of the Imaginese State, he was experienced in dealings with the Jade Empire. However when it came to this supposed succession crisis, limited though his knowledge was on the entire board the game was played upon, he could not fathom why such Serashee and the young life could be a threat.
This was something that he must protect. Like a mother bear, fiercely protective of her cub, willing to lay down his life to keep her safe. It simply felt like a moral obligation.
And so, Radenko, a steadfast guardian, followed his client, through the halls of Jade crafted marvels. It was impressive, though the Jade Empire never did create anything that looked poor. He was not experienced in airs and graces of court life, but knew enough that he would remain quiet until spoken to, doing his job, ensuring nothing got to Serashee.
Blight...didnt get politics. Not really. She could understand how parliaments worked, republics, constitutions. The idea of a line of succession made sense to her but they quickly got too complicated for her fairly straightforward mindset.
No, it was when emotion and agenda got involved and everything got orders of magnitude more convoluted as everyone in the room started twisting things for their own ends that government in practice stopped making sense to Blight.
So, it made sense that in a system of politics as twisty and turny as the Jade court that Blight had barely any idea what was going on at any given time.
What she knew was that she was Mariko's friend and bodyguard, and more recently a pal of her dad's too, and that Mariko was in effect the ruling head of the Canton. At least until a sibling was of age to ascend the throne, though Blight didn't see what was wrong with Mariko holding power.
And now that was at risk? She thought? Or, the throne back in their home was. Again, the black haired android didn't quite grasp the politics at play.
What she knew was that she had a simple job to do in all this:
Keep Mariko Kuribayashi safe.
So, beside her, the tall android stood dressed in...perhaps not the most flavourful garb a royal bodyguard could buy or could consider acceptable, but clothes that accented her well, her nodachi belted to her side, a hand resting softly on its grip.
Many in the Canton didn't take too well to Serashee, an outsider that had gained the hand of the Emperor of all people. But, Blight was a fellow outsider, if one of wildly different background. But if nothing else, they shared that one similarity.
As the woman entered, Blight spared her a warm smile and a soft nod.
She would've said hello, but she'd been reprimanded a few times now for speaking out of turn, and she was finally getting the message.
Mariko offered a wan smile. She knew the poor Minevan was struggling, thrust into the heart of an alien culture and alien political system and suddenly cast adrift, alone. By law they were sisters, but it took time to build those bonds and she didn't blame Sera for finding it hard to feel safe. Even her protector, a man Mariko vaguely recognised as being involved with the discovery of Kurukshetra, a minor Unaligned planet that had proven to be rich in foodstuffs and saltpeter, would be alien to her. He looked dependable though, a grizzled Imaginese man, somehow trim and rugged at once. His eyes spoke of a lifetime of experience. She doubted anything he heard would surprise him, nor did she suspect would he be inclined to repeat Sera's secrets.
She wouldn't do Sera any favours by beating around the bush, however. She gestured for Sera to sit and then pulled up the communique on a larger holoprojector. It was in Ingenious, the squiggly lines no doubt impenetrable to Sera - even if she had set about learning the language when she first met Mitsuyoshi, the Jade Assembly wrote in a prosaic, almost medieval style that was hard to decipher for the average Ingenious, let alone outsiders. Instead, she summarized.
"The Jade Assembly...the council of nobles that advises the Throne...they have rejected your child's claim to the throne. They deny you are even pregnant. They have bypassed me too, they say I can't hold two titles at once. They've selected little Sudara as the next Jade Emperor instead, and set one of themselves up as Regent."
She paused, letting Sera take it all in. Beside her, Buntaro restrained himself from comment. He knew that too heavy a hand wouldn't help Mariko in the long run, and the death of his son had shaken him. It could just as well have been him, and whilst death in battle was nothing to be ashamed of, the sheer unexpected nature of Mitsuyoshi's death had rattled Buntaro's faith in Ingenious martial invincibility. Not that he would admit such.
Serashee's pallid face fell flush with anger- her immediate reaction a small scoff. A woman of long-winded wordiness, her mouth fell open; for a moment, all she could offer was a deafening silence. The remark had brought her hand on the robes over her belly, which had already begun to swell and show. The Jade ruling family was largely silent towards her; now, they spit on her husband's legacy.
"Yes. Of course. Such a farce," She remarked, lips pursed. Her words were loose, not held as tightly by the trappings of nobility or decorum. "They deny me- this is inconsequential to me. But they would deny his son?"
The Minevan women's jaw was clenched, biting back daming words. Tears threatened to well in her eyes. She looked back to Radenko, then about the room. "What is our recourse now? What am I to do?
Radenko only understood the relationships between Serashee and Mariko on a fundamental level. She had explained it to him, the two were as good as family, albeit this was a new and developing relationship. She did however express that she had complete trust in Mariko. If Mariko said, she would jump off a high cliff into the deep ocean, knowing that they would be there to catch her and guide her safely to shore. Therefore, Radenko trusted in Mariko.
It pained him to therefore hear her words, see the pain on Serashee’s face as she turned to him, and to understand what this meant for all of them. A denial against the unborn son would all but confirm Serashee’s suspicions and fears. Could they now actually be a target, a threat to the throne in the Imperial City?
He maintained a stern expression, his eyes meeting Serashee’s before darting from Mariko, her accompanying bodyguard (Blight), and back to Serashee, who turned back to the room. What was her recourse now? An younger Radenko would have suggested outright vengeance, a dagger to the heart of those who besmirched her. In age and wisdom, he knew such a folly would be catastrophic. They had to be smarter. Protect her. Protect the child.
His eyes fixed on Mariko, the source of the words, and the person Serashee trusted impeccably. ‘What is the recourse, Mariko?’ he thought.
Blight's brow furrowed as Mariko spoke, musing on the situation at hand, the apertures of her red eyes dilating and constricting as something whirred faintly from within the android's metal skull.
As much as she was built for war, she could never even consider the thought of violence or cruelty against children, and even if she did, she'd at least try and have the integrity to look them or their family in the eyes first.
She supposed some of it was the distances involved, but the cold, dismissive apathy of it bugged her. It was easier to simply cast the outsider and her child out with a message rather than to muster the backbone to say it over a comm, let alone in person, she guessed. Or the notion hadn't even occurred to them.
She didn't know which possibility she liked less.
At any rate. Letting Serashee go into the wild world beyond would, likely at least, keep them safe from the threat of Imperial retribution; out of sight, hopefully out of mind. But the Minevan had already said before she wanted her child to be a ward of the family, and that was far from an unreasonable ask. Keeping them here made things risky.
Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Blight's fingers rapped against the grip of her sword as her mind raced.
Her mouth opened slightly, pausing and closing again, before opening again.
"...Forgive me, for speaking out of turn or if I sound stupid, but..."
A beat.
"How does one deny someone is pregnant? Sure they haven't seen Serashee," she nodded in the Minevan woman's direction, her eyes drifting downwards and then in the direction of the throne, if not Mariko directly.
"But surely we have medical records, right? Xrays and such? I'd think it a little harder to dismiss that, right?" she suggested, finally her eyes settling on Mariko proper.
"...Or is it not that simple?"
Buntaro shook his head. "No, it is not. They know just as well as we that Serashee is carrying Mitsuyoshi's child, but they have decided upon a different course of action and now the truth must bend to match that course. They are relying on the force of wa, of harmony, to make it difficult for us to oppose them. They have set the course of the Heiwa o hakobu kawa, the River of Peaceful Conveyance, and now to change what is we would have to dam up that river."
He paused, aware that these metaphorical concepts so familiar to the Ingenious could be somewhat opaque to foreigners.
"They have moved first and now to contradict them would be to rock the boat." he rephrased. "As for our recourse..."
He gave Mariko the faintest nod, passing the conch to her. She closed her eyes and sighed, taking a moment before opening them again and fixing her dark gaze on Sera.
"We don't really have many options. Any diplomatic efforts will be wasted unless we go to Laptev in person, and that'd put you at serious risk. We could press the matter by force, but even if we won we would've left Canton unprotected and would've shed far too much Jade blood before it was all over."
She leaned over and took Sera's hand. "I think you should stay here, with us. Between the Canton, the Minevans and the Imaginese, you're surrounded by allies who can look after you and the little one, lightyears away from the politics of the Jade Palace on Laptev."
Sera drew a deep breath, grateful at the android's interjection on her behalf and absorbing the depth of Buntaro's reply: realpolitik, a detestable practice to her, but a reality nonetheless. She gripped her sister-in-laws hand firmly, grounding herself. A pinch to the bridge of her nose helped relieved the mounting pressure of her obvious frustration.
She felt her skin cool, a few breaths bringing her down to address this maturely.
"You are too gracious, Mariko, Buntaro. I am indebted to you, interceding on our behalf," Serashee was deliberate to reference the unborn as well, "I intend to stay, then. I care little for thrones, little for claims. He should be raised with his family. Not in the void among the Vagrant Fleets under some chief."
But still, the thought lingered upon her. "If... their stance is to reject us- what would their recourse be, then?"
Mariko wrinkled her nose, fighting back tears. The thought of the Jade Empire actually taking action against them was too much - she had done well at handling her grief, but the overturning of everything she thought she knew was jolting her to the core.
Buntaro spotted his daughter's hesitation and stepped in. "It shames me to say it, but they may seek to intervene directly. Assassination is not beyond the realm of imagination."
He indicated Blight, Radenko and the Dragon Banner guards scattered across the room. "We will be ready to meet them. I understand the Imaginese have prepared a safe house for you. We shall do the same. We are building a new fastness in the mountains west of the city, and you will have quarters there."
The thought had certainly crossed Sera's mind, but to hear the eupemism be killed directly had her head begin to spin. She felt the pressure on her face, and the chill of fear shoot through her. They were all in danger- and it was her fault to bear.
She imagined, for a moment, how Mitsuyoshi would have reacted to such an idea- perhap he'd have stormed the Imperial seat, or have the dissenters split their bellies in shame. In a way, this cruel situation made sense; the members of the ruling dynasty were bold, if nothing else.
"I never meant to bring this upon us," She said, in a meek manner unbeffiting the adventurer that she was. "I have burdened you all so much."
"You have done nothing of the sort," Buntaro replied. "You have blessed us with a grandchild."
SOME TIME LATER
The Dragonsong Keep was an imposing structure. Not yet complete, it still towered over the valley below. A vast gatehouse was the only way in to the complex, which perched on a mountainside that rose hundreds of meters from its surroundings. Lights and lanterns on its flanks glittered against the cloudy afternoon, whilst behind it yet more towers were being built. The road towards it was single-lane, and as they flew overhead they could see a steady stream of work vehicles delivering supplies to the foot of the site.
Ahead of them, a landing platform was artfully concealed inside a siheyuan styled courtyard house, itself layered inside the geometric puzzle of the growing palace. The aircar came to a gentle stop, buffeted a little by the winds that fretted this high above the ground.
A Dragon Banner soldier stepped down first, helmet panning across the grounds and the staff waiting for them, then turned and gave a nod to the rest of the passengers. Mariko had made the trip along with Serashee, whilst Buntaro had remained in the capital, fifteen minutes' flight away. The Dragonsong Keep was to be the permanent home of the Countess, giving Zhang-Yu Castle over to civil administration as the Canton grew and its staff needed more and more space.
Mariko followed him down, the wind ruffling her hair. She turned to take in the central keep to her left, even higher above them. It was complete, or at least it looked like it, and it clung to the side of the mountain peak itself, almost seeming to defy gravity. The peoples of the Empire had always been prone to grandiose architecture, but the Ingenious style was typically horizontal rather than vertical...
Sera had been silent throughout the journey, the depths of her frustration only disturbed by the view of the compound- the view of her home for what was the foreseeable future. For a fleeting moment, her heart gave its last protest for the freedom of movement that all Minevans yearned for. Once the aircar had touched down in the courtyard, her fate was sealed; she was committed to the castle and solely in the trust of her host.
The architecture was neither familiar nor comfortable to a spacer such as herself- the ostentatious presentation and oppressive heights in contrast to her home of comfortable, if labyrinthian, compartments. She mused that at the very least, a threat within these grounds would be forced to make itself known, whereas the cramped nature of Minevan architecture invited a fair amount of skullduggery.
Sera rose after her sister-in-law, grasping the handle by the door. A foot reached out towards the ground below, and a frustrated hand reached towards the Imaginese bear of a man by her.
"Ah, Mr. Lavic. If you would be so gracious?"
So, that was it then. Assassination. Or at least, the confirmed risk of assassination for Sera and the young life. As the car floated across the landscape, drifting towards the Dragonsong Keep, Radenko came to the realisation that he was in this job for the long haul. Afterall, Sera and the baby especially would be a continual threat to the Imperial Throne, or at least, he assumed that was how the Jade Empire would view things. If that was to be the case, then this Keep, this castle built out of a mountain, would be his home, just as much as Sera’s. He could think of worse places to live.
He was familiar with the grandiose and magnificent architectural building style that the Jade Empire perfected. He had spend 2 years during his younger days in the Imperial City itself, part of the KOMITET and Axis detachment that could be found amongst the various cities on Laptev, in the form of intelligence system foreign exchanges, and marvelled at their ingenuity. But, as grand as they were, the buildings were also extremely functional. He knew the Keep itself would present itself as a sturdy home, and with the right staff, a safe fortress for Sera and the youngster. He would make it so.
As the car drifted to a stop, he promptly exited the vehicle on Sera’s command. He knew his comrades back home would laugh and scoff at the chivalry and servitude of opening a door for such a noble. He put such thoughts to the back of his mind however.
“Yes, of course. My Lady.”
My Lady? His 2 years in the Imperial City had taught him some of the protocols of court life, but he never had imagined them being part and parcel of his day to day structure.
He placed a hand on the door, holding it open, before offering his own hand to meet the outstretched hand of Sera, helping her to leave the car.
As the group assembled, a vast figured ducked out of the shadow of one of the colonnades. The Dragon Banner with them stiffened momentarily but then relaxed as the pale sunlight washed over the hulking figure.
Around seven feet tall and nearly as wide, what approached them seemed to be a man made of gold, almost comical in his rotund features. A smiling face, glinting in the light, above limbs encased in golden armour beneath which scarlet-red cords spoke of artificial muscle and sinew. A vast metal belly led the figure's way, its steps sending faint reverberations across the flagstones beneath their feet. Around his waist and over his shoulders, a jinbaori coat and loose pants in deep midnight blue were fringed with ornate white embroidery, whilst along his arms and forehead kanji runes glowed, lit from within in oranges and pinks.
He stopped before them and offered a bow, and then in an airy, etheral voice he spoke.
"Greetings and welcome, Your Grace. Let me show you to your quarters."
Without another word he turned, elegant despite his bulk, and began to walk back the way he had come. He was an Ancestor Frame, the mind of a deceased yokari transferred from its Soul Vault into its final receptacle. The procedure could not be performed again, Frames unable to store and impart consciousness in the same way a living brain could, but this man had chosen to linger in the mortal realm a while longer, serving the Canton and the Jade Empire still.
Catching a glance from Sera, Mariko translated some of the glowing kanji, explaining that they marked him as a mortal, not an Artificial Intelligence and that his name in life had been Geng Da, a court official who had 'translated' at the age of seventy-one. As was custom, he would keep living until his Ancestor Frame was damaged beyond repair, or else he chose to voluntarily depart the mortal realms
Blight had stepped off last, both to trail the assembly out of the vehicle and--to her misfortune--because she'd gotten her shoe caught in the door, stumbling first to free herself and then to get the shoe back on.
Her head then turned up, her hair marginally disheveled by the stumble, as she observed the architecture.
To call Orphoni's style brutalist wasn't quite fair. Sure, its core structure was very blocky and spartan, pragmatic and practical, but they then laced it with too many details and glowing bands to really fit what most would label the underlying architecture.
Ingenious--or Cantonese, whichever term one preferred--architecture was a stark contrast, and one Blight was still sometimes thrown off by, the android occasionally getting lost at the hands of local layout norms not matching her home, winding up on a balcony or in a side building where she had been expecting a passageway.
And then there was this, which while retaining the architecture stood out again, thanks to the surrounding environment making certain demands of it.
She'd been about to ask how long it had been under construction, when the golden figure made his presence known.
She blinked once, then twice, as she caught up with Mariko, watching him turn and lead on ahead.
"I, uh...huh. I didn't know you had things like him. Not used to being the shortest and---uh...construct, in the room."
EVENING
The painstakingly long day was coming to a close; a welcome end to the journey from Zhang-Yu Castle to their new keep. It had dawned on Serashee that she was now committed to the living situation, the robbing of her choice leaving her with, after everything else, a general sense of unease. She was a drifter- as was how she'd met her late husband- and locked in the proverbial tallest tower, indefinitely. No matter the hospitality of the retinue of servants and guardians, this perfect alignment of unfortunate circumstances forged her into a cold guest at best.
On one of the high terraces nearest her quarters, Sera watched the amber sun gently sink into the horizon. Behind an ornate rail, a temperate mountain breeze lapped gently. The weather and scene over the region surrounding Takabara was nothing short of perfect and breathtaking. Surely, it would be a mild night as well.
The word 'assassin' had stiffened her lip since it was first uttered that morning, and the thought had crossed her mind concerning her position in the open. She buried the notion with the excuse of her bodyguard being practically within arm's reach. The others were sorting their affairs, Sera unsure if the Countess and her own retinue would be joining them.
"Mr. Lavic," She said, eyes only glancing back from the horizon to pique Radenko's attention, "It appears we will be here for quite some time; taking care of my family. Forgive my intrusion- do you have family?"
As the day passed, Radenko had become more acquainted with the castle. It had proven to be as secure as he had hoped, at least from his initial scout around the place that afternoon, though he still had made a polite request for more security to be posted, under his watch. He felt the need for “independent” guards was a must. There was no telling how compromised Canton security could be, and he felt his job would be far easy with a crew of people he trusted. He had already begun drafting up a list of ex-comrades he had worked with in the past, from the comfort of his quaint lodgings within the castle.
As evening approached, he had found himself once again at Sera’s side. The stress of the day had weighed heavily upon her, he knew. Clearly deep in thought of her own situation, her ties and loyalties, she asked him of his own situation.
“I do, my lady.”He replied to her, cautious in his words, thick accented. “A sister, only. We are…somewhat estranged I am afraid to say…”
A fleeting smirk graced Sera's lips, likely her happiest expression in recent memory. The honorifics- she would never get used to them. Truthfully, she wished to do away with them; she was unsure of the polite or proper way to get it to stop, without getting those around her into issues for lack of decorum. "I understand. Truthfully, we are alike. I am no noblewoman."
She'd paused for a moment, considering his reluctance. The man was a professional, through and through. Sera sighed.
"My only family is this child, and Mariko; even then I've only known her a year. We are both drifters in odd places, no?" Sera's rust-colored eyes scanned Radenko from head to toe, offering her best guess.
“We may both be drifters, ma’am, but perhaps a better way to look at this is that you are standing at the edge of a vast and uncharted sea. This place is peculiar as to you as it is to me, but this is just the start of the journey, ma’am, for you and the young one, and who knows of what family you will gain along the way.”
He paused, considering whether his words were out of place. He looked back into Sera’s face, who seemed open to his musings, as cheap as they probably were to her.
“What I mean to say, if you will…permit…is that today we have entered a dark forest, which becomes familiar with each step. But you are not walking alone.” He gave her a nod of comfort.
Poetry and allegory, almost unbefitting such a man. Even now, the people she met continued to surprise her.
"It is reassuring that I am no longer a fish on dry land, alone. Just a few weeks ago, things would be so simple," She mused, "I am grateful to have you accompany me. Your presence is enriching."
Sera's normal cadence and peculiar vernacular was returning to her, the longer she remained in the company of the Imaginese man. Radenko was older, grizzled. He carried the air of a father, both in his imposing figure and his commanding demeanor; only alone could she see the softness on the edges of a compassionate and refined man.
"The night is young," Sera remarked, turning to watch the laster of the amber sun flash under the horizon. "The day has been long. I think I may retire soon."
ELSEWHERE
Verma was a ruin of a woman. Cast out by her own kind, she had still been heartbroken when the High Imperium had fallen, the rotten decadence pervading its foundations no longer capable of supporting the weight of its sins and perversions. She had tried to find solace amongst the Ingenious and her friends at the Imperial Court, but had found herself frozen out. The Shadow's display of pique in front of the Jade Empress had made her persona non grata it seemed, despite everything she had been through. Despite everything she had done for the ungrateful little brat Mariko.
She had shed no tears at the news that Takara had been murdered. Pompous bitch. The Jade Empire's hold on Ancerious was crumbling, and Verma's own hurt had gradually turned to contempt as she sneered at the struggles of the yokari. Their pale attempts at imitating the greatness of the Dreft were laughable.
For all the Canton's woes, Verma was also ekeing out a living, as a mercenary. She had been surprised to receive this contract, but the longer she thought on it the more sense it made to her. It felt like destiny.
Hidden inside an airtruck, she felt the gentle shuddering of its propulsion systems as it changed gear. They were approaching the castle. She prayed that the information she'd received had been correct. A traitor in the castle was working the delivery bay today, would ensure the scans of this truck were not examined too closely, would make sure the crate she was crouched inside was left unattended in a storage area.
After what seemed like an age, she heard the clatter of boots and chatter of idle voices as the crates were unlocked from their moorings and hauled off to their destinations. She cradled her head as her crate rattled for some time, before clanking to a halt. Eventually the sounds stopped, footsteps receding to leave her in silence. Resisting the temptation to release herself, she waited for what seemed like an age until there was a scraping noise and sudden light washed over her.
A yokari, nervous and twitchy, peered down at her.
"Come on, quick! Get out!" he snapped, earning a foul glare from the warrior. She hauled herself out, finding that she was facing a half-dozen grim-looking marines as well, in red-and-gold parade livery. One of them tossed a gun to her, some kind of carbine with a couple of spare mags strapped to the stock.
She checked it over and then nodded to the man. His expression was hidden behind his sleek helmet, and he responded only with a jerk of his head. The group set off, the civilian who had freed her disappearing already. They passed through seemingly endless corridors, many still under construction. At one point a surprised man in hi-vis gear stepped out in front of them, his uncertain greeting silenced by a brutal punch from Verma's mechanical arm, his corpse bundled beneath a tarpaulin.
The marines with her were her surety, and before long they reached a set of stairs which led to Sera's chambers. They took position either side, pretending to keep watch, waiting in silence until a quartet of marines marched towards them, relief for the sentries upstairs. They waited until the group was in their midst, and in eerie silence fell upon their victims, bayoneting and knifing them before they could cry out. The assassins immediately turned and headed upstairs, knowing they had only moments before their crimes were discovered. They approached the guards outside Sera's door and were only feet away when one of them, nodding in greeting, noticed the blood splashed across the gilded vambrace of his supposed comrade.
He yelled out, his gun whipping up, but the range was too close. A burst of gunfire deafened everyone as the attackers swamped the guards, killing them in seconds, but the damage was done and already an alarm was blaring in the castle. They knew they were working on borrowed time and so, at Verma's direction, they began to lay a breaching charge at Sera's door....
Sera shot up from her bed with a start. The report of gunfire deafened the air, the eerie moment of quiet quickly supplanted by the clattering on the ornate door. Sera's eyes shot towards a heavy set of double doors- her chambers connected to a small terrace on the outside, with tiny perches and outcroppings adorning the castle's walls. Sera's rust-colored eyes shot back, now fixed wide upon her rumbling chamber door. Disbelief and denial crashed on her like a wave- Here? Now? So quickly? Mere hours since the official message and the Jade Assembly had already sentenced them to death.
Images played in her head; the bombing on Marchand followed by Mitsuyoshi slaying foes in the bullets and haze, the assault on Whitewharf where they strode through a field of bombs and corpses- all conflict of the recent past now culminating in rapping on her door in a quiet, dimly-lit castle corridor.
Herein lie her issue. Her own skills were the product of her blood; blood she now shared with an unborn life. To conjure up a ward or to atomize an assailant was to harm herself, let alone the potential towards her son. She was already out of her bed, shuffling towards the doors to the terrace in the far corner. Her hands were raised out of instinct, absently tracing the somatic components of her Khaltic Arts; she reluctantly forced herself to stop.
Instead, the double-doors hissed open and the cool night air embraced her- wind lapping at her gown. She looked left and right, and it seemed the only way to maneuver was small lips in the architecture one could barely fit a hand over. Her teeth gritted, as she desperately scanned for a safer way.
Radenko bolted upright. He hadn’t fallen to sleep just yet, his mind contemplating the long day that they had all experienced, but now at the loud sounds emitting from the hall, his mind raced. Was it gunfire? It sounded like gunfire. He hadn’t expected the assassination attempt to come so soon, after all, it had all been conjecture this afternoon. This was a misstep perhaps on his part.
Something was happening outside his doors. His room was small and simple, just as he liked it. A single bed was the main piece of furniture, that almost ran the length of the space, a thin desk laying opposite, and a footlocker at the beds end. It had reminded him of his accommodation during his early years in the academy, but nostalgia aside, there was a functional reason for liking small space. Everything was within reach.
His revolver, an old school Dyuna Frontier 2457 Model C lay, loaded on the bed desk, a bottle of Red Steysi (Imaginarium’s premier vodka brand) next to it, unopened, all within a hands reach, and reach for them Radenko did.
He launched to his feet, revolver in his right hand, bottle gripped tightly in his robotic left. With a violent kick, he burst through his door, and out into the corridor to greet whatever dangerous commotion disturbed the night, and sent the alarms into thunderous rapture.
The view from the terrace was no doubt impressive, but unfortunately it offered few avenues of escape. Nearby rooms had their own balconies, indeed the whole thing was designed as a terraced walkway hanging from the side of the building, but there were intentional gaps in the walkway between each room, aesthetic and cultural needs giving way to security.
It was just too far to leap unaided, although there was wooden decoration that could possibly be used as a handhold by someone with no fear of heights and a bucket full of luck.
Below her there were no further balconies for some distance, a narrow lip of rock half a dozen meters down giving way to the immense precipice on which the castle was built. To her left, another wing of the castle, an open walkway halfway up its flank, distant figures visible...
IN THE CORRIDOR
Radenko did not know it, but he had been blessed with unbelievable luck. The attackers triggered their breaching charge at the same time he crashed through his own door, the sound and smoke of their assault masking the cacophony of the Imaginese mercenary ploughing through solid wood with nothing but raw strength and willpower.
Shaking himself free of the detritus, Radenko spotted the backs of the assassins as they began to file through the broken door into Mariko's apartment..
Radenko's heart raced as he stood in the hallway, his senses heightened by the chaos unfolding before him. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, blending with the scent of his own anxiety. Gripping the bottle of Vodka tightly, he took a moment to steady his hands.
With his eyes fixed on the backs of what he assumed were assassins, Radenko knew he had to act swiftly to protect Sera. The adrenaline surged through his veins, pushing him forward as he moved through the narrow corridor. The thud of his boots against the floor masked his presence amidst the commotion of the assassins breaking through into the apartment.
As he closed in on the intruders, Radenko's mind raced, calculating his options. A plan formed in his head, fuelled by determination and the growing loyalty he held for Sera. He tightened his grip on the revolver, his knuckles turning white. It was time to show these assassins what he was made of.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Radenko sprang into action. With a surge of agility, he lunged towards the closest intruder, his vodka bottle swinging through the air. The weapon connected with a satisfying thud, shattering against the assailant's head, sending him staggering backward.
Radenko's movements were fluid and calculated. He quickly shifted his attention to the next target, his revolver blazing to life. His finger squeezed the trigger with practiced precision. The metallic tang of gunpowder mingled with the scent of vodka, creating a heady mixture that seemed to fuel Radenko's determination.
Sera wobbled above the fatal fall, her bare feet struck by the icy cold of the railing she balanced on. Her hand was firmly planted on the castle's outer wall for support. A jolt of panic spiked her blood, her heart working overtime to course the adrenaline in her veins. For a moment, she glanced over her shoulders toward her other options; back through the room, tumble to the distant walkway of the castle wing below.... certain death.
Now!
In her mind, she bucked her legs and reached out towards the sturdy wooden ornament, an outcropping just at the edge of her reach. Her body, however, was locked firmly in place, wide eyes shooting down to the drop.
NOW!
Sera grimaced as the wind dangerously nudged her forward. She drew a last, deep breath, and she took her leap.
Her hands met sturdy wood right as the explosive charge had blown in her chamber door. The flash had illuminated her terrace, followed immediately by a plume of smoke and ash being drawn out into the open night sky. With a new sense of purpose, Sera began to shimmy to the other end of the solid ornamentation, one sure death-grip after the next. If she could get to the next balcony and into the next room, she could buy another handful of vital seconds to live. Another handful of seconds for Radenko to swoop in.
The second jump was easier to resolve, the heart pounding in her ears dulling her objections; Sera let out a cry as she pushed herself from the protrusion and the wall, and her arms reached out for ice-cold stone.
In the blink of an eye, two attackers were down already. One was on the ground writhing, shards of glass in his face, looking for all the world like the victim of a barroom brawl. The second had toppled wordlessly, a clean shot that had punched through helmet at point blank range, falling like a marionette with the strings cut.
Verma acted on instinct, springing through the door to put space between her and the threat. The other marines span, trying to make sense of the new presence in their midst. One lashed out with a rifle butt, acting completely through muscle memory as a target loomed large in his vision.
Sera found herself on the next balcony over, the door to the interior shut. Wind whipped at her hair, shouts echoing across the vast open spaces. Far above she saw a small aircraft spooling up on a pad that jutted from the side of the primary keep/
Pain exploded through Radenko as the rifle butt connected with his chest. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp, involuntary exhale. For a moment, his vision swam, and he fought through the disorientation that threatened to cloud his thoughts.
“какая-то шлюха!” he wheezed in his native tongue.
But Radenko was not one to stay down for long. With gritted teeth, he focused his gaze on the Marine who had struck him. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he registered the man's surprised expression, his eyes widening beneath the helmet.
Drawing on sheer determination and adrenaline, Radenko lunged forward, his fists flying like a whirlwind. He didn't have time to think, to strategize. It was a raw, primal instinct taking over. One fist crashed into the Marine's helmet, denting it with a resounding thud. Radenko's knuckles protested the impact, but he pushed through the pain.
The Marine staggered back, momentarily dazed, his rifle slipping from his grip. Radenko didn't let up. He pressed the attack, throwing a quick jab to the Marine's midsection, a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand. His chest still ached from the rifle blow, and his movements were far from graceful, but determination burned in his eyes.
Amidst the chaos of the scuffle, Radenko's gaze darted to the female figure now at the heart of the attackers. She must be the one orchestrating this assault, he assumed, the one who had dared to breach Sera's sanctum. A ruthless adversary, he imagined.
The marine doubled up, dropping to one knee, dazed and breathless. Behind him, Verma and two of the marines slipped inside the door and disappeared from sight.
The last standing marine hesitated for a moment, then thumbed his bayonet into life, a short spike of yellow light shimmering into existence and casting flickering shadows over the chaotic scene. He lunged towards Radenko, his weapon looking for all the world like a snake pouncing on its victim.
Radenko caught the rifle by the barrel, slipping past the bayonet, and then tumbled to the ground, tugging the rifle with him. The traitor marine stumbled and Radenko used the reprieve to snatch up his revolver. A round caught the winded marine in the chest, hurling him to the ground, and as the last regained his balance and rounded on Radenko a shot punched through his neck. Frozen for an instant, he slowly toppled. Radenko wasted no time, bursting free of the tangle of corpses and rushing through the doorway in pursuit of Verma.
He found her perched on one foot on the balcony, staring out across the yawning abyss below. Serashee was nowhere to be seen, but when he finally reactivated the castle's battlenet he caught the chatter of a squadron on the floor below that had located her safely.
He stopped, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, before beginning to reload his revolver purposefully. Verma did not immediately react, but eventually turned a baleful eye back to Radenko. Her face betrayed a poorly-controlled rage. Radenko could only imagine the time and energy that had been expended to get Verma to this point, only for her to fail at the last hurdle. The culmination of months, maybe even years, of seething rage and obsession, deceit and murder, her mission had ended here, at a very literal dead-end. He had never met Verma before, but he had read the dossier.
"It's over. Put your weapons down." he grunted, snapping the revolver's cylinder into place and levelling it at her.
Verma stared back at him. She seemed to be struggling for a response, eventually settling simply for spitting on the ground. Radenko's finger squeezed on the trigger as he saw Verma's muscles tense like a mountain lynx. There was a deafening boom as the revolver went off, Verma springing off the railing at the same moment.
Radenko rushed after her, but she had already fallen through the mists below and out of sight....