CHAPTER 5

 

The morning weather hinted at a lovely day ahead as Kikola and Tehvay walked to the Veilan's house. Kikola noticed that Tehvay looked distracted.

She tugged on Tehvay's hand gently. "What's the matter?"

"Have I ruined everything by calling Boran?"

"No," Kikola said firmly. "I admit it wasn't a good idea, but you have not ruined everything."

"What if they come for us? Or Boran?" Tehvay was becoming visibly upset.

"Then they come." Kikola felt at a loss. The situation was not ideal. There was always the possibility of the Hegemony coming after them; however, that should be her problem and not Tehvay's. "Your call might not have been intercepted. They might have already known where we are. Stop blaming yourself."

Tehvay opened her mouth to say something.

"What is done, is done," Kikola continued. "They are not here now. They won't be here tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. If they turn up, we will deal with it. If they turn up, it will not be your fault."

Tehvay nodded.

"You go to work with your father knowing that you will have many more years to enjoy it."

Tehvay smiled. "I will."

They arrived at their destination. Tehvay opened the door and called out. Pallin's voice called out in response and he and Asta came from the kitchen. Pallin offered Kikola a quick smile, and then hugged his daughter and dragged her off to the garden before they went out to work.

"Come with me," Asta said to Kikola.

Kikola dutifully followed Tehvay's mother into the kitchen. Asta went to the stove and stirred the contents of a pot that was simmering on the hob. A familiar smell wafted towards Kikola.

"That smells like Hukha soup."

"It is," Asta replied. "A particular favourite among the Elit, as I recall." She offered Kikola a spoon and invited her to try it.

Kikola put her hand up. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of your breakfast."

"No, it's not my breakfast. I made it just for you."

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why have you made it for me?"

Asta sighed. "Tehvay mentioned you're not eating well, that you've lost a bit weight. I figured you're not used to the food on Trengos. I must admit it took me a while to get used to the food here."

"I thank you." Kikola took the spoon and stirred the contents intently. The brown liquid was just the right consistency, and the pieces of fish not too big. It made her stomach rumble and her mouth salivate with anticipation. She put a spoonful in her mouth and savoured the taste of the Hukha, a freshwater fish originally native to Kalenth; though, as the Hegemony expanded, so did the availability of Hukha.

"Mmm, delicious," said Kikola. Maybe not quite as good as our chef back home made, she thought, but still very good – by far the best-tasting thing on this planet.

Asta smiled, seemingly pleased that Kikola liked it. "I'll put it in a flask and you can take it to work."

"Thank you. It's really very good."

"So, how are you adjusting to working for the Dansek Security Force?" asked Asta as she carefully filled a flask. "I know it's a far cry from being an aloyd."

"Yes, it is very different." Kikola recalled the mantra drilled into her by her mother, 'Elit do not lie' as she pondered Asta's question. "To be honest," Kikola said, "I find I am experiencing difficulty in assimilating to life on Trengos. When I was an aloyd, I had no need to concern myself with other people's opinion of me. I was in command. There was no fraternising with subordinates or people of lower castes. Tehvay provided all the social interaction I needed. Now that we're here on Trengos, my success depends on my ability to prove myself to others."

"You mean to Rikana," Asta offered.

"Well, yes. She doesn't seem to like me much."

Asta gave Kikola a sympathetic look. "Don't be fooled by her bluster. Rikana's got a heart of gold. She'll warm up to you. Just give it time."

"You and Yuniph seem to understand Rikana quite well."

"As well as anyone can understand Rikana, I suppose," Asta said. She handed the flask to Kikola.

"Thank you." Kikola put the flask in her shoulder bag, "I was hoping you could give me some insight – to help me understand her better. To help improve our working relationship, I mean."

"I will, if I can," Asta replied. "The first thing you should know is that Rikana was orphaned when she was a girl."

"I didn't know that."

Asta started packing her own lunch for work. "She doesn't like to talk about it. Her parents were killed by slave raiders, so now you know why she is so outspoken in her dislike of them."

"I see. Now it makes more sense," Kikola replied.

Asta paused in her task. "Rikana puts on a front. She acts tough and confrontational. That's just her way of getting a measure of someone. Don't back away from it. If she thinks she can walk all over you, she won't respect you."

"I do not think it's a front," said Kikola. "I have seen her deal with criminals."

"Oh, she can back it up if she has to, don't underestimate her in that regard. But what I mean is, she likes to test if someone is worth being her friend."

Friendship with Rikana? thought Kikola. It hadn't occurred to her. "I do know she lived with you for a time. Was she that challenging with you at first?"

"Yes, she stayed with us for nearly two years. It must be five or six years ago now that Yuni found Rikana sleeping rough on the streets and persuaded her to come back here with her. Rikana was grateful for a warm place to sleep," Asta explained. "But, no. She didn't act that way with us. At least not with Pallin and myself. With Yuniph it was different." Asta glanced towards the kitchen door, and back to Kikola. "Yuniph can be a little… prudish," she whispered in case her daughter could hear through the closed door. "Rikana has no boundaries. She would walk around in her underwear. I think Rikana picked up on Yuniph's unease and did it just to tease her."

"What about you and Pallin? Did that bother you?"

"No. As a slave, you have no personal boundaries. Or were the slave quarters in your house different?"

Kikola blushed. "I don't know. I never visited the slave quarters."

Asta waved her hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to… forget I said anything."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Kikola replied. "Besides walking around half-naked, was Rikana an easy house guest?"

"Well." Asta smiled. "We didn't lay down any strict rules. All we asked was that she let us know when she was coming or going, and to keep her room tidy."

"Something tells me she had trouble with that," Kikola observed.

Tehvay's mother chuckled. "Yes, that was never Rikana's priority. Not like Yuniph. My Yuniph is very neat and orderly."

"Yes, which is why it seems so unlikely that the two of them would be friends."

"Maybe that's because you don't know either of them that well. From the outside it can seem unlikely, but I guess we're the closest thing Rikana has to family," Asta explained.

"Then she is lucky to have you." Kikola felt she should say something more. "Yuniph is very efficient – a good leader."

Asta smiled with a mother's pride. "With a good heart, like Tehvay. She got Rikana the job with the Dansek Security Force."

"She did the same for me," Kikola added, "for which I am grateful. Though I think that was only so Rikana can keep an eye on me. I think they still don't trust me."

Asta sighed. "People in the Graelands are always going to be suspicious of people from the Hegemony. You doubly so, because you are – were Elit. You just have to persevere and earn their trust. The fact that Pallin and I trust you helps."

Kikola acknowledged this revelation with a smile. "I am glad I have earned your trust. It is hard to let go of old ways and embrace new ones. Tehvay once told me that my conformity to Elit societal rules made me more of a slave than her," Kikola recalled. "In some respects, she may have been right. Before, everything about my life was predetermined. Now, I have the freedom to choose what I will do and how I will live my life. This newfound 'freedom' I have terrifies me, but it must have been even more terrifying for you to have freedom for the first time. How did you cope?"

"When we left the Hegemony and came here," Asta waved her free hand, "there was a group who helped refugees and escaped slaves. We were the first legally freed slaves they'd ever met. They helped us find housing and employment, and provided counselling to help Pallin and me adjust to daily living as free citizens. At first, we were overwhelmed with so many choices, so many decisions, but we adjusted. It got easier as time went on. We found friends, bought a house, and made a good life for Yuniph and us." Asta patted Kikola on the arm. "It'll get easier for you, too."

"I hope so," Kikola replied. "Were people suspicious of you when you first came here?"

"When they heard our accents they were, but once they found out we had been slaves, they were welcoming."

"Accents? What do you mean?"

"We had Hegemony accents. They've changed a bit over the years. How do I sound to you?"

"Like everyone else here." A troubling thought struck Kikola and it set off mental alarms. "I know my Elit accent stands out, but what about Tehvay? Her accent is Hegemony. Are people suspicious of her? Do you think she is in danger?"

"Relax. She's not in danger."

Asta's assurances did little to assuage Kikola's concerns. "How can you be certain? This group with whom she's got herself involved has strong anti-Hegemony feelings."

"They've accepted her."

"Will everyone who supports them know who she is? I knew it was a bad idea. I should never have allowed her…I…" Kikola looked at Asta. "I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant," said Asta gently. "It's okay for you to be protective of her. You don't have to apologise for that. I see how much you love my daughter. I'm grateful Tehvay has you."

Kikola appreciated Asta's kind and reassuring words. She felt a step closer to belonging. "I am grateful she has you, too – that we have you."

"Morning."

Kikola turned to see Yuniph standing in the doorway to the kitchen, ready for work. If there was one thing Yuniph and Kikola had in common, it was their respect for wearing the uniform. Yuniph's was as smart and buttoned up as Kikola's – everything straight, no creases out of place. Even Yuniph's long hair was tied back without a strand out of place, just like Kikola's.

"Morning," said Kikola.

Yuniph wrinkled her nose. "Do I smell Hukha soup?" She went over to the pot on the hob and lifted the lid.

Asta closed the lid again. "I made some for Kikola to take to work," said Asta. "The rest is for dinner."

The brief flash of disappointment on Yuniph's face was immediately replaced with a grateful expression as her mother handed her a sandwich. She looked at Kikola. "Ready to leave?"

"Yes," said Kikola. She thanked Asta for the soup and followed Yuniph out to her vehicle.

"Ima doesn't make Hukha soup for just anybody," Yuniph observed as she engaged the destination preset. "She must really like you."

"It was very kind of her." Maybe this is another step towards finding my place among these people.

~~~~

Kikola and Rikana found themselves in an area of the city that was not the friendliest. Suspicious, wary, and hostile eyes followed their every move. Kikola patrolled the street, alert to her environment, ready to act. In contrast Rikana slouched, not paying attention to her surroundings.

The suspect they had been chasing had escaped into the crowd. He could be anywhere – anyone: average height, grey jacket and trousers. They only knew what he looked like from behind.

If this were the Hegemony and Kikola still an aloyd, finding the suspect would have been simple. She would have started interrogating and executing until someone gave him up. That extreme sort of action was not permissible here, and now even Kikola herself would baulk at taking such action.

"Officer Lardis."

"Officer Karthen." The reply was laced with sarcasm and lack of respect.

Kikola ignored it. "Pay attention. We may yet still be able to apprehend the suspect."

Rikana stopped walking. Kikola stopped, turned, and looked at her.

"You're not my boss," said Rikana. "You don't tell me my job."

"I am—"

Kikola stopped talking when Rikana suddenly reached out without looking and grabbed a passing youth around the neck. The young officer pulled her arm tight to her side, forcing the youth to bend over, and he started swearing.

"Stop complaining," Rikana told the youth, giving him a shake. "Do you want to show me what you've got or have I got to search you?"

Kikola didn't know how to respond and could only watch as Rikana rapped her knuckles on the top of the young man's head.

"Ow!" cried the lad. "It's in my pocket."

"Show it to me. Slowly."

The youth reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small pouch. Rikana snatched it from his hand.

"Aw," she sighed. "That's not worth the paperwork." She released her hold and the youth straightened up. She held up his pouch, daring him to take it back, but he resisted. "We had a report of a robbery," she told him. "We chased the suspect in this direction. Do you know who we want?" Rikana loosened the opening to the pouch and threatened to tip it. "Or do I have to give a description?"

"No. I know!" The young man's wide eyes fixed on the pouch. "Please! I'll tell you."

"Tell away."

"Grondo. Lives in—"

"Yeah, I know Grondo." Rikana pushed the pouch into the young man's chest, and he carefully tried to remove it from her grasp. Before relinquishing it, Rikana tightened her grip on it. "Do yourself a favour, throw this shit away." She let the pouch go.

"I will," said the lad, relief flooding his face as he stuffed the pouch back into his pocket. "I will."

Rikana watched him scurry away and turned back to Kikola. "He won't."

"He won't what?" asked Kikola.

"Throw it away."

"What was it?"

"Dust," said Rikana. "It's a drug. It's cheap. It makes them feel good for a bit, so they buy more. It's addictive and deadly as fuck. Someone like him, he's been using it for a couple of years. If he keeps using it and gets lucky, he'll live another ten years. Even if he quits now, there's no guarantee that he hasn't already killed himself, but the sooner someone quits the greater the chance they'll survive."

"Then why give it back to him?"

"Because it's all he's got to make him happy. I said it's cheap, but these people around here are not rich, and they consume a lot of dust. If I took that little bit, he'd likely have to steal to get his next fix."

"Surely something can be done?" asked Kikola.

Rikana gave her a look as if to say Kikola was stupid. "Of course, something can be done. We arrest the suppliers, but other suppliers pop up. There are groups who try to wean the users off it, but it has a low success rate. Kids are told of the dangers before they can get hooked; some of them get hooked anyway. People are morons, and unfortunately, we can't arrest them for that. As long as they're not breaking other laws, we don't bring the users in. We would do nothing else if we did."

Kikola understood Rikana's frustration. She also understood why Rikana, even though she hated the idea, gave the drugs back. It created a bond between her and the downtrodden people in this part of the city. A heavy-handed approach would only increase the already palpable tension.

It was yet another layer to the contradictory nature of the young woman. She was brash, confrontational, and prone to using a bit more force than was necessary, but she could be sensitive, diplomatic, and kind.

I wonder if she's aware of her conflicting character? Or is it all just an act to get what she wants? pondered Kikola.

Rikana sighed. "Let's go catch us a bad guy." She perked up. "I haven't broken a nose in a long time. Maybe today's my lucky day!"

Kikola followed Rikana as the young officer set off along the busy street. After a short while, they turned into a narrow alley.

"Grondo lives in a basement about halfway down," said Rikana.

"We should call for backup," said Kikola. "We're too susceptible to ambush in this location."

"People around here hate us, but they're not going to ambush us."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know these people. I've worked these streets for years. They don't like us, but as long as we're arresting someone else, they'll leave us alone. They're selfish that way!"

She's smarter than she likes to let on, thought Kikola. Maybe I can learn something from her.

Rikana descended a set of steps to a basement level. The door at the foot of the steps looked flimsy, but when Rikana banged on it, it revealed itself to be sturdier. After knocking, Rikana sprang catlike two metres up the wall and pushed the security camera, located over the door, so that it pointed in another direction.

Kikola thought there was going to be no answer, but eventually the built-in comm crackled.

"Who's there?"

"Is that you, Grondo?" replied Rikana.

"Who wants to know?"

"I do."

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? Aw, Grondo, you're hurting my feelings. How could you forget me so soon?"

"Whatever. Go away."

"If that's what you want," Rikana said. "I'll just take what I got elsewhere. Maybe Tase will remember me."

"Hold on."

Rikana flashed a grin at Kikola. "So stupid," she whispered and drew her IPB.

Kikola took that as a sign to do the same.

A locking mechanism could be heard disengaging and the door opened a fraction. Rikana kicked the door, brought her weapon up, and rushed in. Kikola took a step towards the door.

"Watch out, Karthen," Rikana called.

A body flew through the open door, hit the wall, and crumpled to the ground. Rikana followed, stamped hard on a hand that was holding a knife, and pressed her weapon to the head of the suspect. Grondo's cry of pain over his injured hand was cut off when he heard the whine of the IPB at his temple.

Rikana leaned down. "Damn, his nose is not broken." She pulled her weapon hand back as if she were going to hit him.

"Officer Lardis. The suspect is subdued."

Rikana glanced up at Kikola and then back down at the suspect. "I guess it's not my lucky day," Rikana said to Grondo. "Let's see how lucky you get." Rikana put restraining cuffs on Grondo and hauled him to his feet. She grinned again at Kikola. "Good work, Karthen. You didn't get either of us killed. I'll make a cop out of you yet."

Rikana cackled as she pushed Grondo past Kikola and up the steps. "Careful now, don't trip!"

~~~~

Kikola and Rikana had got Grondo back to Headquarters without further incident, and had just finished securing him in a cell when another officer approached them.

"Karthen, Commander Simeal wants to see you in his office."

"Thank you, I will go right away."

The other officer turned and walked away as she was speaking. Behind her, Rikana cackled.

"Still making friends," the young officer said, and poked Kikola in the back.

Kikola took a breath and turned to Rikana. "One of us has to."

Rikana looked surprised for a moment, then gave another burst of her cackling laugh. The laugh faded. "I guess if Simeal wants you, I'll have to do the paperwork." She shuffled past Kikola and slinked away down the corridor. When she got to the end, she turned. "Put a good word in with Simeal for me."

Kikola recalled her earlier conversation with Asta about Rikana. Is that her warming up to me? Kikola wondered.

Kikola hurried upstairs to Simeal's office. She paused outside, straightened her uniform and knocked.

"Come in!"

She entered the office and stood to attention.

"Relax, we're not that formal here," said Commander Simeal. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, sir." Kikola had been taught that a subordinate officer must obey and respect a superior officer. While she didn't like Simeal, he was her superior officer, so she offered him due respect, and sat down.

Simeal gave a forced smile. "Just waiting for—ah, here she is."

Kikola turned in her chair as the door behind her opened. It was Yuniph. Kikola stood up. Outside of work she was Tehvay's sister; at work, she was Kikola's superior.

"Take a seat, Sergeant," said Simeal.

Kikola waited for Yuniph to sit before taking her seat.

"Sergeant Veilan has been telling me about this Planetary Protection Group. What do you think of them, Karthen?"

"Their goals are admirable, but they have no thought of how to achieve them. They lack any strategy."

"They seem to be gaining popularity," Simeal commented, pointing to an article on his news reader.

"Their popularity is not dependent on their strategy, only their goals."

Simeal grunted. "Sergeant Veilan told me about your strategy to implement one of their goals: intercepting slave raider ships."

Kikola frowned. "One achieves a goal. One does not implement a goal. One implements a strategy to achieve a goal, sir." She corrected his misuse of the word.

Simeal looked confused by her correction.

"Commander Simeal thinks it's a good idea," said Yuniph. "He wants you and me to sit down and come up with a detailed plan. What's needed and how much it will cost."

"If it gets the go ahead, I'd like you to organise it, Karthen," said Simeal. He glanced towards Yuniph. "Under Sergeant Veilan's supervision, of course." The commander directed his gaze back towards Kikola. "You're the most qualified in running something like this that we've got."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, the pair of you. Get the numbers back to me as soon as you can."

~~~~

Kikola and Yuniph had been in Yuniph's office pouring over figures for more than an hour. The estimates were coming together, but Yuniph was concerned the numbers were still too high.

Yuniph looked up from her desk at Kikola, who had stood up to stretch. "What's the minimum we can get away with?" asked Yuniph.

Kikola replied, "Three interceptors per shift."

"So, that'll be nine total." Yuniph made a notation on the electronic paper.

"Plus spares, just in case," Kikola added. "However, don't say 'just in case'. Say that it's required."

"Why?"

"Always ask for more, because you'll be given less than what you ask," said Kikola.

"Be careful what you ask for, you might just get it."

"Pardon?"

"It means things don't always work out the way you plan." Yuniph replied. "The ideal is far removed from the reality."

Kikola gave her a quizzical look.

Yuniph explained, "I always wanted a sister when I was growing up, and now I've got one."

"You don't want Tehvay?" Kikola sank back in the chair opposite Yuniph.

"No, I didn't mean that. However, it's not like I imagined it would be. I wanted someone to share secrets with, to grow up with. Someone who's like me. I don't know Tehvay. I see someone who looks like me, but is different in every other way. If she weren't my sister, I don't think I would be friends with her."

Feeling wounded, Kikola swallowed the answer she wanted to give, but Yuniph must have read it in her face.

"Sorry, I don't mean that I hate her or wish what she went through on her. If we had grown up together, things would've been different. But she's grown up in an environment I can't conceive of. She's been shaped by that, and the events in her life, not mine."

"She deserves your support. You are her family."

"I will do what I can for her, to help her in any way that I can, but she's not my sister."

"She is. Just because you didn't grow up together doesn't change that."

"I'm not talking genetics," said Yuniph. "I'm talking about in here." She tapped her chest.

Kikola digested Yuniph's words. "Change is difficult. I know all about that. Forget about the sister you wanted and accept the sister you have now. Forget about the missed opportunities and make new opportunities."

"It's just—"

"It's just nothing," Kikola interrupted. "The first time I saw Tehvay was when my mother gave her to me as a present. At that point I saw only a slave. A possession. A thing, not a person. We talked. I got to know her. She touched me in ways that made me change everything I had accepted. Give her a chance to do the same to you."

Yuniph nodded. "I'm sorry if I haven't been more welcoming. To both of you."

Kikola offered a wry smile. "I find it difficult to make friends. Maybe I am not the easiest with whom to make friends."

"Rikana only dislikes you, so you can't be that bad. If she truly hated you, she'd want to inflict pain on you."

"I thought I noticed a thawing in the hatred from Rikana this morning," said Kikola.

Yuniph chuckled. "She told me if she ever said something nice about you, I had permission to hit her. That's about as close to praise as you're likely to get from her."

I was right, thought Kikola. Rikana is not as hostile as she seems. We just need to understand each other.

Yuniph interrupted Kikola's musings with a stretch and a yawn.

"I need a break," said Yuniph. She pulled out a container of sandwiches.

Kikola remembered the flask of soup that Asta had made for her, and went to get it. She poured some into a cup. She noticed Yuniph eyeing it and remembered her disappointment this morning.

"Would you like some?"

"Ima made it for you."

"She didn't say I couldn't share it."

Yuniph shook her head. "I'll be having some when I get home."

Kikola poured some soup into a second cup and placed it in front of Yuniph. "There is too much for me. It would be a shame to waste it."

Yuniph smiled. "Thank you," she said, and took a sip. "Lovely."

Kikola felt relaxed. Maybe things will all right here. The Hegemony will forget about me. I have a new life, maybe even friends. Everything has worked out well.

~~~~

Gral'hilanth watched the young, blonde-haired woman intently. She could see a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. She could see the rapid rise and fall of the young woman's breasts.

The girl was scared. Trapped. This wasn't going to end well.

"We know you lied. We know why you lied," said Ambra, her voice was soft and soothing like liquid silk. "Will you admit it?"

"I admit nothing," Jenissa replied. In contrast to Ambra, the young woman's voice was sharp and close to breaking. 

The two women sat facing each other in high backed, armless chairs. Ambra had positioned herself as close to Jenissa as possible. Their knees were almost touching. Gral'hilanth stood a metre to the right of the councillor. They were the only ones in the room.

Jenissa's eyes kept darting to the door. Perhaps looking for rescue, Gral'hilanth didn't know.

Ambra remained patient and calm. She leaned forward, putting herself lower than Jenissa, giving the young woman the false belief Ambra was being subservient. "Karthen had feelings for the slave, and you knew that. We just want the truth. That's all."

The conversation had started formal and about nothing in particular. Then Ambra turned on her charm. It was almost a seduction. Ambra's gentle conversational tone, however, had hidden claws. With Gral'hilanth's experience negotiating business deals and the occasional foray into intimidation, she knew what Jenissa was experiencing and feeling.

Jenissa had obviously thought this was going to be a polite chat and nothing more, which was why she had cordially agreed to it. However, before she knew it, Jenissa was trapped. The subject of Alopan and Karthen was raised. Gral'hilanth could tell the young woman's mind was racing, looking for a way out as she realised the gravity of the situation. To get up and walk away would be admitting guilt and the possibility of others finding out. Staying was the better option for Jenissa. Or so she was mistakenly thinking.

Gral'hilanth saw the moment clearly where Jenissa decided not to fight, but to co-operate, mistakenly believing that by doing so, things would be better.

"I told the truth." Jenissa's voice was less brittle.

"My dear, there's what people believe, and then there's the truth. I don't care what people believe. I care about the truth. You do too, do you not?"

"Yes," Jenissa replied with a single nod of the head.

"Will you tell me the truth?" Ambra smiled sweetly. "Please."

Gral'hilanth had felt the force with which the councillor used the word 'please'. It was a simple word, but Ambra wielded it like a weapon. Gral'hilanth felt pity for Jenissa.

"Aloyd Karthen said she was in love with the slave." Jenissa spoke quietly, her eyes downcast.

"There, that wasn't so bad was it?"

A simple shake of the head caused Jenissa's long, golden curls to sway gently.

"We just want you to admit it on the record," continued Ambra. "A simple public declaration saying you lied, and to denounce Karthen." Ambra smiled shyly and looked down. "Will you do that for me?"

"That's all you want?" Jenissa sounded uncertain.

"Yes." Ambra straightened up slightly. "Also, for you to admit why you lied."

Gral'hilanth watched the exchange. Ambra was good. She knew what she wanted and how to get it. She made a powerful ally, and a dangerous enemy.

"I won't say that." Jenissa was resolute. She looked away and crossed her arms.

"Please," implored Ambra.

The councillor was so convincing even Gral'hilanth wanted to comply. She would have been impressed if she weren't horrified.

"No!"

Ambra sat up straight. "You will." Her voice was still soft, but it contained a more authoritarian edge. "If you don't, we will say it." Ambra smiled. "It is the truth after all."

"I will deny it."

"Deny it, and this will go on. There will be more questions, and not just from us. Make the statement now, and we'll leave." Ambra leaned forward in her submissive posture again. "You can go about your business." Again, the sweet, honeyed voice came out. "There will be a little fall out from it, but not as much as if you refuse. You want things to be over, don't you? You want you and your slave to be together, don't you?"

Don't do it, Gral'hilanth thought. She remained stoic, burying any feelings of sympathy. She thought of Karthen and how this would further tarnish her name. To try and avoid watching the slaughter of innocence, Gral'hilanth allowed her eyes to wander around the room, focussing instead on its contemporary décor. What captured her attention, amidst the silver and gold furnishings, and porcelain vases filled with flowers, was a large crystal chandelier. The light coming in from the windows reflected like so many stars. Will I have a home as nice as this one day? Gral'hilanth wondered. She dismissed the thought and turned her attention back to the young woman and the spectacle that was still ongoing.

Ambra continued. "Refuse, and Menari could be taken away. Neither of us wants that."

Jenissa visibly flinched. She would do anything to protect the slave and Ambra knew it.

"You promise Menari will not be taken away."

"Promise," said Ambra and smiled.

Gral'hilanth almost believed her. Jenissa did.

"Very well," she said with a gentle, resigned sigh. "I will make the statement."

Ambra reached out and placed a hand on Jenissa's knee. "You are doing the right thing. I will give you one hour to compose yourself and think of what you want to say," said Ambra.

"Thank you," said Jenissa.

Only Ambra could make someone thank the person that was about to destroy their life. Gral'hilanth was grateful she was on Ambra's side.

~~~~

The governor's estate on Yun'thul had formal gardens and walking paths edged by tall manicured hedges. It was a good place to be alone with one's thoughts. While Jenissa was composing her statement, Gral'hilanth decided to go for a walk to clear her mind and to get away from Ambra for a while. She walked along the pathway for several minutes.

Finally, it came to an end and opened up to a magnificent vista. To her left, the land rose gently in rolling green hills and orchards. To her right, the fields sloped gently down to a line of trees that marked the river. The heady smell of flowers, grass, and soil overpowered her. The humidity made breathing and walking arduous. She could have remained cool in her uniform jacket, but she had chosen to remove it to feel the sun on her bare arms.

The weather and scenery reminded her of a day long ago on a planet light years away. She was sixteen, her family was visiting relatives for a few weeks, and she had gone out on her own exploring. It was by a pond on a broiling hot a day that she had fallen in love for the very first time.

The girl was a few years older than Gral'hilanth, a Labror.

"What's your name," the girl had asked.

"Gral'hilanth. Gral'hilanth ap Falentha."

"Oh!" the girl chuckled. "One of those Elits."

Gral'hilanth smiled. She had never heard anyone be so disrespectful, yet in a playful way.

"Gral'hilanth is an ugly name," the girl continued. "It doesn't suit someone as pretty as you." She chewed her lip in thought. "Hila! I shall call you Hila."

The young Elit nodded. "I like it. What is your name?"

"Jacenth Llyte."

And thus, began a summer of love. Jacenth showed the young Gral'hilanth things she never dreamed were possible.

But all good things had to come to an end. Gral'hilanth couldn't risk her indiscretion being discovered. On the last day of summer, she met Jacenth at their special meeting place. After they made love, Gral'hilanth led the young woman to the pond's edge and held her down. As Jacenth realised what was happening, she stared up in terror at Gral'hilanth. Her struggles and thrashing disturbed the water, obscuring her face. Eventually she stilled, the water cleared, and a face stared blankly back.

It was Kamina's face.

"Kamina!" Gral'hilanth let out an involuntary cry of anguish as the face disappeared.

Gral'hilanth suddenly remembered where she was and looked around to see if anyone had heard her. She was relieved to see that she was alone.

With a heavy sigh, Gral'hilanth made her way back to the governor's residence. The atmosphere inside might have been cooler, but it was no less oppressive.

"Ready?" asked Councillor Lentol with a knowing smile.

Gral'hilanth nodded. I'll do what I have to do if it gets me one step closer to Karthen.

They entered a large room where most of the household were gathered. Front and centre were Jenissa and her aunt, Governor Ultessi ap Taliss, and just behind them stood Mariantha ap Karthen and the slave Menari.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the governor. "Why have you called my staff here?"

"I feel that this needs to be witnessed," Ambra interrupted. She turned to Jenissa. "Are you ready to make your statement?"

Jenissa looked to her aunt. "I…"

"Come on, the sooner this is over, the better," Ambra prompted her.

"This is unprecedented," said Mariantha. "You have no right to force Jenissa to say anything. This is neither a court of law nor Council-sanctioned."

Ambra turned on her patented sweet smile. "No one is forcing anyone to do anything. Jenissa wishes to make an announcement. Isn't that so?"

Jenissa nodded.

"Then carry on, dear," said Ambra.

Jenissa kept her eyes down, and her voice steady. "I wish to apologise for giving a false statement in relation to the incident on Alopan. I was not threatened by Aloyd Kikola ap Karthen when she took her former slave from me."

"Tell everyone why you helped Karthen," prompted Ambra.

"I was foolish. I was swayed by her plea. She claimed to be in love with her slave. I let her have it back."

"What do you think of Karthen now?"

"She is an abomination. She is depraved. She was spreading her… sickness, and I was weak. I am sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I allowed myself to be infected by her words and succumbed…"

"Go on."

"Enough!" Mariantha stepped forward and put herself between Jenissa and Ambra. "This travesty stops now. You've had your fun, Councillor Lentol. Now go."

"This is not your house. This is not your courtroom. You have no authority here."

"Governor, put a stop to this," Mariantha implored.

The governor looked around at the assembled crowd. "Enough has been said. This is over."

"It's not over," said Ambra. "Jenissa has just confessed to unnatural sexual acts with her slave. We must ensure it can never happen again."

Gral'hilanth nodded to a couple of soldiers. They moved to Menari. Jenissa flinched as if to try and protect Menari, but other soldiers detained her. Menari was dragged forward and forced her to her knees.

Gral'hilanth removed a strap from her pocket, walked around behind the slave, and wrapped the strap around its neck.

"No!" Jenissa cried.

Gral'hilanth ignored the young woman's anguished cry. She cast a glance at Ambra for final confirmation, and then pulled the strap tight. The soldiers held Menari still as its body tried to buck. Gral'hilanth pulled harder until she felt something in the slave's throat give way. Its desperate attempts to breathe stopped, and its body fell limp.

Chapter 6

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