CHAPTER 1
Dorien Sector - twelve Terran years before the Aldeean Siege
“Make way for Dersinomer, esteemed Archon of the planet Caldeor.”
I took two steps to the left, barely avoiding a crash with the standard-bearer. The overdressed driang ignored me entirely and stepped through the gate, his master following through equally nonplussed. Six guards wearing ornamental cuirasses, but very functional pikes marched in step behind them. The closest one threw me a scathing look as if my presence on the portal dais was an offence to the departing bureaucrat.
I let them pass, then stepped back on the ramp descending toward the middle of the hall. The Caldeor exchange was an airy chamber decorated with warm colours, conveying a feeling of freedom somehow appropriate for an avian race like the driang. The bird staring at me from an alcove at the end of the ramp was anything but warm, though.
“Place your hand on the identification crystal,” grunted the border guard, adding belatedly: “Please.”
The driang were our oldest partners in the Dominion, yet a bunch of arrogant assholes, nevertheless. Oh, they were respectful enough in their dealings with Sen’Haillar upper echelons, but their courtesy did not extend to ordinary Dominion citizens. And a freshly minted Third Level Legate was a Haillar as ordinary as they came.
While putting my right hand on the reader, I handed my employment token with the left. The officer inserted it in a slot on his console and peeked to a screen invisible from my side of the desk.
“Name?”
“Ellandra Deluan.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-one cycles.” And change, I added silently in my mind. No need to share this latest thought with the surly avian.
“Where did you come from?”
“Tao Bellona, the Dominion’s Capital”
“Reason for your visit?”
“I was assigned as junior legate with the Haillar Embassy on Caldeor.”
I’m sure the avian had all this information on the screen in front of his beak. He pinned me with a fixed birdlike stare nevertheless, as if my very presence there, in front of him was breaking the law. I watched him back with wide, innocent eyes, trying to look as harmless as I could possibly be. I was the naïve Haillar girl taking her first steps on her own into the world out there.
The guard was unimpressed. These planet’s border officers probably went through specialised training specifically designed to make them look unfriendly. Or maybe they were naturally ill-disposed towards any trespassers, especially of the non-driang kind.
“I need to see the contents of your duffel.”
Wordlessly, I emptied my bag on his desk. A pair of robes, a jerkin, breeches, toiletries. Nothing conspicuous, not even a reading tablet. I was expected mistrust, and I came accordingly prepared.
With a sour face, the officer handed me the token and waved me through. I took great pleasure meticulously refolding my belongings to the avian’s great annoyance. Sometimes I could be as petty as any other wronged Haillar woman. But I prided myself I was able to always pick the appropriate time and place.
***
“Miss Deluan?”
“Ellandra! Ellandra Deluan!”
That would be me.
My mind was wandering, so I missed the initial call. I hadn’t used my original surname for quite a while, so I momentarily failed to react. Wake up Ellandra, your training break is over!
The person calling me was a young Haillar male, only a few cycles older than me. I stopped and turned, measuring him discreetly. He was tall, at least a head taller than me and looked to be trim and fit. His dark blue eyes were his most striking feature, bright and shiny, nicely complemented by blue facial patterns and hair accents. A shade of midnight blue I’ve rarely seen in a Haillar. Not what I expected when meeting a diplomat attaché on one of the most reclusive driang worlds in the entire Dorien Sector.
“Ellandra? Welcome to Caldeor. I’m Sandrial Avrido, a fellow low-level assistant with the Diplomatic Corps, odd job man for the local Haillar Mission and your brother in misery for the foreseeable future.”
Most definitely not your run of the mill career diplomat! And an underwhelming recommendation for my future workplace, if I ever heard one.
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, I’m exaggerating a bit. It has its moments, such as being sent to welcome you, for example.”
I gave him a long glance, shaking my head. Really? Trying to flirt with me moments after we’d met?
“It’s not that bad” continued my guide on a more serious note, “but definitely not the choicest assignment in this galactic sector. You might have noticed that our hosts have a real knack for making foreigners feel unwelcome.”
We exited the Exchange, and I had my first glimpse of this driang world. An airy cityscape dominated by high rises, not surprisingly for an avian race. Millions of cycles ago the driangs’ forefathers used to be daylight predators, like falcons and eagles on the Haillar worlds, and to date the entire species was still fond of dazzling hights and open vistas. Too bad their views were not as broad when it came to any cross-species interaction.
“Our enclave is within walking distance, so we can have a pleasant stroll and get to know each other at the same time. Allow me to take your duffel, my Lady.”
I was perfectly capable of carrying my bag, yet more than willing to pass it to my new acquaintance. Who was I to discourage my colleague’s chivalrous behaviour?
“So, legate Avrido, have you been on Caldeor for long? By the sound of it, you’ve been around for ages.”
“I apologise if my words gave you this impression, Mistress Deluan. I really do. Bickering is a time-honoured tradition at the Caldeor Haillar Mission, as no doubt you would soon have the opportunity to discover yourself. No, I haven’t been here for long. I joined less than a cycle ago, just before the last Festival of Darkness.”
More like half a cycle ago, in this case. The Festival of Darkness was an ancient tradition celebrating mid-winter on our long lost homeworld. We were now close to the Festival of Light which was only twenty-odd days away. A time of joy and celebration for all the Haillar, wherever they might be. I wondered if I’d still be around in twenty days, for this messy situation should be over by then, and whoever thought it was a good idea to sell us out should be dead.
***
The Haillar mission occupied the entire ground floor of a low building in one of the less travelled parts of the trade district. Though low was a relative term. On Dorien or even Tao Bellona, a fifty-odd floors tower will be considered reasonably tall. Here it was dwarfed by slender skyscrapers rising hundreds of strides into the air and crisscrossed with open bridges. Either this planet was entirely wind-free, or the driang idea of a good time was facing the gale on a narrow perch, without a railing or any other safety. Of course, they could fly, so it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
Our arrival was met with a perfunctory nod by one of the two troopers guarding the door, while the other ignored us altogether. The talkative one sported the Order symbol on his chest, while his comrade was attuned to Chaos. Dorien household troops both of them, likely a bonded pair. Some of the best guards in the entire Dominion.
Inside, we came into a large atrium, brightly lit by a transparent ceiling, an enormous window into a verdant open space. So, this tower had an empty core made into an internal glasshouse. A place where the residents could relax in the open and fly up and down at their leisure. A common driang architectural feature, though again modest compared to the aerial jungles I’d seen elsewhere. I couldn’t imagine the falcon-like avians living in this place being very happy to fly in a relatively confined pit, even if wide by Haillar standards and fifty stories tall.
“I’ll take you to the Diplomatic Office to meet the others,” said my guide. No doubt The First Legate, Ambassador Hardun, would want to talk with you and give you the house rules.”
“Don’t worry,” he continued seeing my panicked expression. “It was intended as a joke. Delora Hardun is not that bad. For a Senior Diplomate, at least.”
Was that supposed to be encouraging?
The Diplomatic Office was an open plan working space with two lateral partitions at either end. Crystals and screens were arrayed on every desk, and a dozen men and women were busy doing whatever the embassy officers were supposed to do. My alleged day job, I assumed.
“I’ll introduce you later. Let’s meet the First Legate, to begin with,” said Sandrial taking a left turn, while nervously glancing to the opposite partition.
“What’s happening? Do you keep a flagar beast in there?”
“Good guess! That’s the lair of the Winter Witch.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The offices of our esteemed Ortens Sen’Galahad, our local Resident Adept.”
On a foreign world, the Resident was effectively the head of the local Sen’Haillar Chapter and hence the head of all the eka wielding adepts working on the planet. While the First Legate was nominally leading the diplomatic mission, the Resident was on point for any military issue. He or she also took care of anything related to the interests of the local Suzerain House. In our case, the Sen’Dorien House.
It was a rather complicated arrangement, both between the First Legate and the leading Adept and between the Sen Haillar Houses and our hosts, the driang. The birds were fully independent masters of Caldeor, yet nominally under the protection of one of the Haillar queens, and hence retainers of her House. A millennia-old arrangement that suited the driang quite well, for never in sixty-odd thousand cycles had a Haillar queen interfered into the affairs of a Nest.
Shouted words erupted briefly from the Resident’s office, and a stout elderly woman stepped out abruptly heading directly towards us. The other side of the argument remained invisible in the confines of her sanctuary. Such a shocking lack of restraint was almost unheard of for my race. The Haillar always took pride in being calm and composed, no matter the circumstances.
The woman, First Legate Delora Hardun, stopped short of entering her office and turned to us with a scowl on her face.
“Legate Assistant Deluan. I was expecting you, although much earlier today.”
I wasn’t aware I was late, so I threw a confused glance towards Sandrial. I must have looked as helpless as I intended, for my guide was quick to defend me despite his apparent reluctance to confront his boss.
“Miss Deluan was almost on time, First Legate. She was indeed briefly retained by the driang gate controllers, but if anything I’m the one to blame, for insisting us to walk all the way from the Exchange.”
I was impressed. Not only dashing but also a real gentleman ready to take a blast in defence of a lady. I must admit, such thoughts were entirely inappropriate for a woman of my station, if perfectly normal for someone my age.
“That would be all, Assistant Avrido,” said the ambassador, sending my friend away. “Miss Deluan, I’d like to have a word with you for a moment.”
I followed her in her rooms, closing the doors behind me. Whatever she had to say, I doubt she wanted to be overheard by all her subordinates. I was surprised if she wasn’t concerned about losing face, after the odd display earlier on.
“Miss Deluan, you must realise your posting here is entirely unusual,” began the head of the Caldeor mission. “As a matter of fact, you, a recent graduate with no practical experience, are the last-minute replacement of a junior diplomat I happen to know and respect.”
Oops, not exactly my best introduction! I suspected that Verdid was aware of this but couldn’t care less. A minor inconvenience for me to deal with.
I tried to protest my innocence, but the Legate stopped me with a hand gesture.
“Please don’t bother. I’m good enough at my job to have a hint of who you probably are, and why you showed up here at this particular time. I might even agree with the reasons, but this doesn’t necessarily mean I had to like this entire charade.”
I very much doubted at least one of her statements, but I was glad she was aware of the coming storm. Providing, of course, that she wasn’t the one that brought it on Caldeor in the first place. I strongly doubted that was the case, but one never knows. People change.
“I’m here to help,” I respond curtly. It was a non-answer that could have meant either that I agreed with Delora, or that I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Evasion was always better than an outright lie. Much easier to keep track of what you said if you didn’t need to remember the falsehoods.
“I have no doubt about it”, replied the ambassador in a dry tone. “On this note, tomorrow morning you’ll accompany me to a discussion with the esteemed Archon Erdolminer, the driang in charge with sub-orbital defence and most ardent supporter of the Huynar development. I guess you’ll find this discussion informative.”
Delora Hardun fixed me with a hard stare for a moment, then started to fiddle with a com crystal letting me know in no uncertain terms that this interview was over. I considered for a moment telling her everything, telling her that we had actually met before. Telling her that we were even friends, some other time, in some other life. But people do change, and there would be time for remembrance later, when this crisis would have come to pass.
***
“Let me invite you to a cup of tea and also an opportunity to meet some of our colleagues. The attendants will take your luggage to your quarters. No need to worry about that.”
A cup of tea was just what I needed, so I took Sandrial up on his offer. In any event, getting to know the diplomatic team was the next priority on my agenda.
The canteen doubling as a tea parlour was within the embassy. A lovely little terrace open to the internal garden reminding me of some of my favourite places on Tao Bellona. The place was half full, as it was close to the customary early-evening meal, at the end of the office time.
“This is the finest and only place on Caldeor where we can come together for a tea or a meal,” my new friend informed me. “The birds are not keen on inter-species interaction, so all places outside are off-limits to us. They don’t serve anything edible, in any case.”
I could see how this would quickly become tedious, though at first glance the place looked charming enough. Details like this could make live annoying and probably accounted in no small degree for my compatriots’ misery. Well, at least today my presence could bring a sense of novelty, the break in the daily routine that could be enough to lighten their mood.
My favourite embassy assistant led me to an occupied table, where three men and a woman were already sipping copious amounts of sejuna tea.
“My dear friends”, started Sandrial. “Please meet Ellandra Deluan, the newest member of our band of exiles and now officially the most junior Legate in our team.”
I took a seat an poured a generous portion of tea, then looked around, quickly assessing my new colleagues. Two middle-aged males, one very prim and proper, the other one a solid guy, probably ex-military. A young man, slightly older than Sandrial, possibly another assistant. The woman, likely a decade older than him, with light teal bangs and discrete face patterns.
“Are you coming directly from Tao Bellona?” asked the solid Haillar in a pretty blunt way. Another way of saying: Are you coming straight from the academy?
Well, I did arrive from the Dominion Capital, and being a fresh graduate was my cover story.
“Indeed, my dear sir. Forgive me, I don’t know your name and Corps designation.”
The protocol would require for all of them to introduce themselves and provide their Diplomatic Corps status. But in this case, as I was clearly the most junior person, some believed they could dispense of the customary introductions.
“I’m Ajden Halora, Second Legate,” responded the ex-soldier, then probably remembered his manners and continued pointing to his colleagues. “My friend Quars Mendina, also Second Legate and young Prion Alora, one of our Assistants. The lady is Amiren Klern, responsible with Mission logistics, no Corps designation.”
Each of the three nodded in turn, acknowledging their introduction. They seemed to be a regular bunch of Mission staffers, the older males mid-rank officers, the younger, embassy assistants. No rising stars, no laggards either.
“Tell me my dear”, intervened the supply officer. “What are the latest rumours from Bellona. We receive daily news, of course, but rarely visitors. And we well know the most interesting bits are not in the Lore House reports, neither to be discussed by com portal.”
The lady was fishing for some gossip, at the same time alluding she was well attuned with the Capital’s grapevine. Unfortunately, I wasn’t, so I had no clue what exactly she was looking for.
Seeing my confusion, the clerk realised she had to be more specific.
“I mean, any end in sight for the Interim? Not that we complain about Queen Reith Sen’Dorien, but as you know, Caldeor is her Sister’s. Things haven’t been the same since the death of the old Chaos Queen.”
This was a flimsy excuse if I ever heard one. It couldn’t matter one way or another for the Embassy on Caldeor which of the Dorien sisters was managing the House’s affairs. As a matter of fact, I was pretty sure that Reith Sen’Dorien, the Order Queen, was a better administrator for the Haillar affairs on this planet than her Chaos sister, its nominal Suzerain.
“Nothing was officially agreed, but I’d be surprised if it lasts long beyond the Festival of Light,” I responded. Typically, the time between a queen’s death and her re-ascension was roughly sixty days, and more than half of this time had passed since the date Xendara, the last embodiment of the Chaos Queen, had passed away.
My curious colleague nodded wisely, as if I was sharing some unique insight. I wondered how well connected to the Capital she was, or if all of this dialogue was just an attempt to impress Sandrial. She was definitely more interested in looking at him than in whatever piece of trivia I had to say.