“Been a while since I used one of these,” she said, deactivating the blade. “Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”
No one spoke as Katrina returned to her seat. She placed the lightwand hilt on the table before her, then leaned back in her seat.
“Troan, make yourself useful and contact Lord Wills’ heir. His daughter, I believe. Tell her she needs to be here in forty minutes to swear fealty to me, or I’ll pay her canton a personal visit.”
“Yes, Warlord Katrina.”
“You all look so shocked,” Katrina said, a grin splitting her lips. “Your veneer of civilization has always been just that—a thin skin over your rotten core. I’m here to be a new kind of ruler for Midditerra. The kind it deserves. And this begins with each of you swearing fealty to me.”
“Are you serious?” Jeshis asked.
Katrina shrugged. “Want to ask Wills? I can arrange a meeting between the two of you in the afterlife.”
* * * * *
The council had all sworn their fealty, named the ships they were turning over to the MDF, and selected their new liaisons.
Now considerably less happy than when they had entered, they were filing out of the room, dismissed by Katrina when she had no further need for them.
“Armis,” Katrina called out to the Lady of Canton Draus. “A moment.”
Armis turned from Lady Marion, touching her on the shoulder and sharing a look before walking back to Katrina.
“Yes, Warlord?”
“Despite our previous conversations, you were not as supportive as I had expected,” Katrina said without preamble. “I got the distinct impression that you were waiting for me to slip up.”
Armis nodded, her expression grave. “That’s because I was. I did not encourage you to hold this meeting because I wanted to fawn over you, but because I wanted to see what you were made of.”
Katrina searched Armis’s face, scouring the other woman’s visage for insight. There was not much to be found; Armis gave little of her internal thoughts away.
“And?” Katrina asked.
“And I think you’ll be a sufficient guardian for the Midditerra System. But I don’t like you.”
For some reason, the way she said it struck Katrina as amusing, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, that’s too bad, Armis. I like you. And trust me, none of this is by my choice, but I’m not going to be a victim of circumstance. I’ll control my destiny, thank you very much.”
“And that of those around you?”
“You don’t like the way I do things? Unseat me.”
Armis’s eyes narrowed as she regarded Katrina, and Katrina considered placing a neural lace in the woman’s mind. Armis was clearly the most formidable of the council members. She understood when to bide her time, and when to strike.
Katrina respected that.
If she could turn the woman into a true ally, she’d be far more valuable than as a puppet.
“Maybe someday, Warlord,” Armis said, a genuine smile appearing on her lips for a moment. “For now, we’ll see how things play out.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”
Armis laughed as she turned to leave the room. “Vote of something, at least.”
AN ALLY’S ENEMY
STELLAR DATE: 01.29.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Selkirk City
REGION: Canton Selkirk, Persia, Midditerra System
Armis sighed as she entered the lift, her two guards and assistant joining her. Katrina had behaved like a wild animal, possessing no restraint. Her words dripped with threats, and her actions were worse.
It was as though she were the worst possible combination of Jace and Lara put together into one person.
Days like this, I hate you, father. Well, hate you more, at least.
She was trying to build a better future for her people, but how was that even possible when she lived in such a cesspool—one filled with piranhas? Her father had been like the others, a despicable Lord of the Canton, who abused his people and took what he wished from them.
Somehow—through a process Armis had never fully fathomed—she had gained a different worldview. One where she had come to believe it was her place to protect and guide her people.
It was slow, arduous work, elevating her canton while taking care not to make it appear too weak or too juicy a target for the others. She also had to be cautious of how much her canton was viewed as a safe haven by the people of Persia.
If Canton Draus shared borders with the others, she would surely see hordes of refugees pour in each year. As it was, even though Draus was a canton spread across a vast archipelago of islands, they still saw hundreds of people attempt daring ocean crossings each year.
“Glad to see that you survived the council session,” Tal, her aide, said after a moment of silence. “I just about puked when they carried Lord Wills out.”
“You and me both,” Armis replied. “Katrina is a brutal monster.”
“She’s in pain,” Tal said. “So much pain. Can’t you see it in her eyes?”
Armis shrugged. “I do, but that doesn’t matter.” She opened her mouth to say more, but decided not to. Her scans showed no listening devices in the lift—not any more, at least—but Katrina possessed technology far beyond theirs. It was possible that she could be listening to them even now.
They exited the lift a moment later and walked down a short hall to shuttle pad A7. Armis forced herself to walk slowly, though she felt as though a target was on her back the whole way.
In the distance, smoke still rose from the location of Katrina’s orbital strike, the haze drifting across the city, forming a grey film over the valley.
Once on the shuttle, Armis collapsed into one of the deep chairs and snapped her fingers for an automaton to bring her a glass of wine.
“Stars,” she whispered after she took her first drink. “I had hoped to find a true ally in Katrina; someone who would help. And we were getting so close to unseating Lara, too. Just another month, and all the pieces would have been in place.”
“Many of the assets are still in position,” Tal replied as she settled in across from Armis. “It may take a bit longer, but we can use them against Katrina.”
Armis shook her head. “No, let’s not be so hasty. She did something to Troan. Something beyond the humiliation she subjected him to.”
“Like what? She can’t have sex—from what I hear, her body is a ruin under her metal skin. She’s not controlling him that way.”
Armis chuckled. “Katrina may be a crass, murdering bitch, but she doesn’t need to resort to her womanly wiles to bend someone to her will.”
“You’re referring to the rumors about mind control?”
“Those would be the ones.”
Tal shook her head, giving Armis the same amused look of mock-worry she had used since they were kids. “That’s just conjecture.”
“We have firsthand accounts of Katrina in Lara’s presence, but Lara seemed subservient to her. Witnesses place Malorie on Farsa, too—though Katrina claims that Malorie and Jace were running their operations from Rockhall, while she was being held by Lara on Farsa—until Malorie managed to break free.”
“But you don’t believe it,” Tal prompted.
Armis shrugged. “There are discrepancies in the timeline. You’ve noted some of them.”
“Yeah, but there are other explanations,” Tal replied, grinning and waving her hands in the air. “We don’t need mystical mind control to explain it.”
Armis laughed. Tal always had a way of getting a smile out of her when she was down. “You should look at the sort of tech they had back in the Golden Age. If Katrina is a Streamer like she claims, then she might as well have ‘mystical mind control’. I watched her clear the biolock on Wills’ lightwand in seconds. That’s not something anyone here can do.”
“She could be from the AST. They have tech like that—or so I’ve heard.”
Armis raised her eyebrows. That was possibl
e, though it changed little.
“Well, her origins aside, she’s dangerous, and we’ll have to play our cards carefully. Katrina went from being completely unknown to controlling an entire star system in under a week. That makes her the most dangerous person I know of.”
“So what’s our next move?” Tal asked.
Armis blew out a long breath. “I have no idea.”
LIES AND VERISIMILITUDE
STELLAR DATE: 01.31.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Katrina’s quarters
REGION: Farsa Station, Persia, Midditerra System
Katrina hated sleeping.
Even with Korin and loyal Adders guarding her, she knew it was when she was the most vulnerable. Always having to be on guard, always having to portray this persona of absolute strength…it was harder than she thought it would be.
When she’d ‘killed’ Jace and taken Lara’s place as the ruler of Midditerra, she thought that she could actually be the ruthless ruler. That Katrina the Warlord was who she had become.
She had thought she could be OK with that.
What Katrina longed for was a true confidant. But Juasa was dead, and Troy was still missing. The only person she had that could really understand her position was Malorie.
Malorie’s braincase was near her bed; she’d not taken it back to her throne room to rejoin Jace, Lara, and Captain Hana. Katrina regarded it for a moment, wondering if reaching out to Malorie for companionship was a sign that she was losing her mind.
<Are you awake, Malorie?>
<Fuck you, Katrina.>
<I suppose I probably deserve that,> Katrina replied with a self-deprecating laugh.
<I don’t even know if I sleep anymore. It’s like everything is just a disjointed dream. I can’t even tell if you’re real.>
Katrina knew why that was. Malorie’s brain wanted stimulation. However, because Katrina didn’t want the woman to have access to outside nets, or even visuals, the braincase provided faux sensory input for Malorie’s mind.
But it wasn’t enough to make her feel grounded—especially for an L0 brain like Malorie’s. It did, however, keep her from going stark raving mad.
<I’ve been thinking about that. I want you to know that I didn’t intend this for you—I know you’re as much a victim of all this as I was.>
Malorie made a derisive sound in her mind. <I’m no one’s victim.>
<Liar. You were Jace’s creature, and you know it.> Katrina paused, wondering if she should give Malorie a lifeline. <I was going to give you Revenence back, you know. Juasa and I had talked about it.>
<Now who’s the liar? You would never have done that. You hate me.>
<Maybe. Juasa didn’t, though.>
Katrina didn’t know why she kept talking about Juasa. She’d been trying not to; it just hurt too much. Ju had so much of her life left to live. That fateful meeting with Katrina in the bar at Bollam’s World had been the beginning of the end for her.
<I had a fondness for Juasa. I guess that is something we have in common,> Malorie replied.
<Would you like a body again?>
Katrina blurted out the question. What she really wanted was a friend. She thought Armis might have been a candidate, but she had been cold as ice in person.
How low have I sunk that I’m seeking friendship from Malorie?
Katrina wanted to scream, to rail against the universe, against Markus for being a stubborn old fool and dying on her, at Tanis for leaving her behind, at the people of the Primacy for casting her aside, at the Sirians for destroying everything.
At her father for being a raging asshole that had murdered people on a whim and then asked what was for dinner.
I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree….
Malorie didn’t reply right away, but when she did, the words dripped with acid. <I repeat, Katrina, fuck you.>
<Is that any way to treat me after such a generous offer? I mean…you had my lover whip me till skin hung off my back in strips. The fact that I don’t torture you continually should make you a little bit grateful.>
<Katrina, you are torturing me continually.>
<Well, I’m offering you your life back. A life without Jace’s control. A chance to be your own woman.>
<Just trading one master for another,> Malorie replied coolly. <Don’t try to pretend it would be anything else.>
<Fine, stay in the braincase. But you’ll probably go insane in a few months. Or you can have a body.>
Katrina could feel Malorie fuming silently, likely considering her options. They were few: go mad, or take the offer. Suicide may have been a possibility, as well. Katrina had heard stories of braincases that had suicided.
<What kind of body?> Malorie eventually asked.
<A robotic one of some sort, I imagine. I suppose down the road it could be organic—right now we don’t have the resources to grow you a nice new fleshy bod.>
<Like an automaton?> Malorie’s voice was hesitant.
<Sure, yeah. I get the feeling you have something in mind.>
<Well, back before we started using human pickers for the fields—you know, the whole ‘handcrafted’ thing—we used robotic pickers. Problem was, the NSAI just didn’t have the skill to make some of the finer judgments as to which plants were ready and which weren’t.>
Katrina was starting get an idea as to where this was going. <You had braincase pickers for a while.>
<Yes. We should still have some of their frames in storage at Revenence Castle.>
Malorie sighed. <I don’t know. I suppose because I know that they’re available, and they were both tough and graceful.>
<OK,> Katrina replied. <I’ll reach out to Demy and see if she can ferret them out.>
<Tell her to ask Tom, the medtech. He’ll know where they’re stored.>
<OK.>
Katrina considered granting Malorie enough network access to handle the appropriation of her new body on her own, but decided that it would be best to put that off a little bit longer.
There was trust, and then there was trust.
* * * * *
Katrina had reached out to Demy—who was not sleeping, either. Though it was because she was working on repairs to the Castigation. The engineering chief agreed to get on the case, though she did not sound overjoyed at the prospect of providing Malorie with a body once more.
After going back and forth on potential control mechanisms and kill systems to keep Malorie in check, Katrina had left Demy with the details, and finally began to drift off to sleep.
<Warlord Katrina!> Jordan’s voice broke into her mind, using an emergency code.
<What is it, Jordan?> Katrina asked.
She was about to tell Jordan that whatever news she had best be worth waking her up, but then she hoped it actually wasn’t.
Let it be something stupid so I can actually sleep.
<It’s Jace’s flagship, the Verisimilitude. It’s docked at Nesella Station.>
Katrina very nearly bolted upright in her bed. The Verisimilitude was a well-equipped cruiser that had evaded capture, and had not come in when the Adders loyal to Jace surrendered three days ago.
It had fled into the outer reaches of the system, leading Katrina to wonder if its first mate, a slimy man named Leon, had taken the ship and run. But if it was docked at Nesella Station, that was a horse of a different color indeed.
She pulled herself to her feet and walked into the san. <Get your crew ready, Jordan. We’ll be paying Nesella Station a little visit. I’ll be on your ship in thirty minutes.>
<Understood, Warlord.>
Nesella Station was the domain of a man named Kruger, one of the more powerful figures in the outer Midditerra System. He ran many of the stations that managed interstellar trade, at which the cantons operated their front businesses that sold stolen
goods as though they were legitimate wares.
By mutual agreement, stations like Nesella were neutral ground, places where the cantons held no official power. They were run by the stationmasters with as little canton influence as possible, and protected by the MDF.
However, Katrina had learned from plumbing the minds of her captives that most of the ‘free stations’ were in the pocket of one or another of the canton rulers. There were a few exceptions, and the stations run by Kruger were amongst those.
Kruger was a ruthless man who ruled with an iron fist. He even had his own small ‘security fleet’, and during the recent unrest, no one had even attempted to raid his stations.
Although Kruger was not in the pocket of any canton leader, there were still those with whom he was more closely affiliated. Cantons who had special privileges on his stations.
From what Katrina had learned, Canton Kurgise was one that he was particularly close to—or maybe it was just Lady Marion that he shared a relationship with.
That the Verisimilitude would dock at Nesella was very telling. It reinforced Katrina’s resolve to annex Kurgise for the Blackadder Canton.
But first, she wanted that ship. It was easily a match for the most powerful MDF cruisers and could be a key vessel in any system defense. It would also help balance the power between the Adders and the MDF.
Once her mods had completed their cycles, Katrina left the san, grabbed her coat, pistols, and turned to eye Malorie’s case.
<Too bad you don’t have your new body yet, I might be able to use you on this mission,> Katrina said to the black cylinder resting beside her bed.
<What mission?> Malorie asked.
<We’re going to Nesella to secure the Verisimilitude,> Katrina said, her tone resolute. Destruction was an option, but she would greatly prefer to capture it.
<Shit, Katrina. You’re going into the lion’s den. You’ll need me.>
<Why?>
<I know Kruger, and I know the Verisimilitude’s mate, Leon. If he’s gone to meet with Kruger. You know what that means.>
Katrina nodded—though Malorie could not see it. <It’s possible that he’s allying with Marion of Kurgise. It’s also possible that he’s low on fuel and felt that Nesella would be a safe haven.>