Chapter 4 - A Senator’s Tale

Avenue of Patriots

Horizon District, Novaterra, Union of Federated Systems

Sunday, 16 September 3488

            The elegant Congress Hall, beacon of freedom, harmony, and republicanism at this edge of the galaxy, was nearly two-hundred years old, the capstone of achievement of the famed Renthallen Administration. Led by the illustrious Proximan Consul of the same name, the comfortable period of peace and prosperity had seen many such projects undertaken across the capital, with the intention of revitalizing a wracked nation which had emerged from a bloody half-century of warfare. Congress Hall was the apex of this work, its twin domes standing at either end of the building, affording a striking view of the either rising or setting sun – depending on the direction one was facing and the side of the building in which one stood. Each dome, done up in a tasteful mix of early-Dorylaetian Renaissance and Old Terran Byzantine styles, stood atop one of the two chambers of the Union’s bicameral legislature. The bluish tint to the stonework of each was both a testament to one of the colors on the Union Standard, and also to the Dverblinese architects who did much of the mining and heavy-lifting for its construction.

            In colloquial speech, the term ‘Congress Hall’ had gained added meaning, instead referring to both the entire legislature of the Union of Federated Systems itself, along with the entire complex of buildings which stood at the center of the Avenue of Patriots. The actual hall with its domes stood at the center of the complex, while sprawling annexes stretched out from each side in symmetrical pattern. The mark of different architectural styles indicated that the further one got from the domes the newer the construction became, until the furthest out annexes, which betrayed the hallmark of the most modern styles. These annexes contained the auxiliary rooms used for the meeting of subcommittees and interest groups, along with the offices of the elected representatives themselves. To not dwarf the magnificent domes topping the hall, both of these side wings stretched downward instead of upward, from the artificial platform “ground” which held Congress Hall – itself anchored high in the sky – down towards the metallic barrier which separated surface Novaterra from the layers of old city below.

            It was the rightmost of these two annexes which served as their destination, Tobias side-by-side with Captain Rigby as they made their way towards Congress Hall. They approached the hall from the western side, a crisp blue sky the only thing framed between the stone domes due to the midday hour. The sun was somewhere off to their left, part of which clipped by the tall spire of one of the many nearby skyscrapers which shot up another couple hundred stories from where they previous stood. Nearby was a relative term – the area of Novaterra designated for Congress Hall had been specifically zoned so that no other constructions were allowed in a several-kilometer radius, allowing the magnificence of the structure to remain unobstructed by the sprawl of city which had overtaken most of the planet’s surface.

            As the duo walked down the Avenue of Patriots, connecting Congress Hall with the main Horizon District thoroughfare behind, Tobias shifted uncomfortably in his uniform, all the while trying to stay at attention. It had been nearly nine years since he had last worn it, the vivid memory of the blistering heat of a Martian summer and blaring of military trumpets at his exit ceremony something he wasn’t soon to forget. Despite the long time the uniform did fit surprisingly better than expected, albeit not in a few key places, namely his shoulders.

            “A little too tight?”

            Tobias looked to his left, where Captain Rigby was walking beside him down the avenue. “The opposite,” He commented. “Too loose.” It served as a conspicuous reminder that his upper arm muscles were markedly less thick than they had been in his Navy days, causing that part to hang looser around his upper half.

            A small grin appeared on the Captain’s face. “Becoming complacent in your old age?”

            Tobias offered a wry frown. “You’re older than I am.” Rigby’s grin widened, shrugging the comment away.

            Tobias took that moment to appraise Rigby’s own outfit. She had thrown together another one of her many disguises, this one a decent imitation of a low-ranking Congress official, that of a dignitary. As always, the transformation was otherworldly, Rigby looking nothing like the rugged smuggler with which he was familiar. Her hair was tied up into a thick bun and she wore a fancy golden hairpiece along with it, a far cry from her usual brown hat and an item Tobias hadn’t seen before.  A thin layer of makeup was another unfamiliar addition to her usual countenance, along with a flowing white garment accented with a short red cloak draped over her right shoulder, the hallmark of a Congressional Dignitary. Even her gait – tall and purposeful, yet with a grace and presence – had changed, the whole getup looking almost natural on Rigby. It was as if she hadn’t just pulled the outfit of a political servant out of her closet, but the attitude and carriage to go with it.

            “For what it’s worth,” Tobias replied.  “You look exactly like you belong here.” 

            The Captain nodded. “That’s the idea.”

            They continued to make their way up the avenue, a wide marble street flanked on each side by rows of well-manicured trees and hedges, tall statues of the Union’s various heroes – military, political, civilian, and even religious – mounted in even intervals along the way. These large, stately, and serene reminders of a Union long-past stood with confident glances turned towards the activity which constantly made its way up the avenue, today no exception.

            The avenue itself was closed to vehicles and airspeeders – a security measure instituted sometime in the last century. This meant that the traffic all around them was pedestrian, throngs of senators, delegates, dignitaries, and other staffers walking side-by-side with their robotic assistants, all shuffling purposefully to and from the hall despite the fact it was Sunday. Senator Sethell wasn’t the only one working through the weekend to assure the Entente signing went as expected, and surely those from the opposite camp were working just as hard as he. At that thought a sudden outburst of a yell echoed from the left side of the avenue, Tobias turning his head to observe the disturbance.

            “I see the anti-Entente movement doesn’t take any time off, either.” He commented. Indeed, beyond the avenue and hedges a long makeshift metal fence had been hastily constructed, just barely seeming to hold back the massing of beings on the other side of it. This group was loudly shouting slogans and some even obscenities at the passers-by, most of the pedestrians working hard to ignore them. From the writings on the signs held by these protesters – most in Galactic Standard, though many not – most were there to protest the “Samatria Massacre”, the sensationalist title for what the news mainly termed the “Samatria Incident”.That event was well-known to Tobias and just about everyone else in the Union, the gut-wrenching affair, having been the cause of nearly 500 civilian deaths and injuries, and all at the hands of a Union frigate’s accidental weapons discharge.

            “I was watching a news report on that last night,” Rigby said. “Apparently some of them have been out here for the past month, refusing to leave until Congress listens to them.” Taken aback, Tobias looked at the protesters with new eyes. Sure enough, some of those at the front of the pack did look particularly haggard. A Dorylaetian man clearly hadn’t shaved in just about that long, while the Human next to him had hair mottled and clothes dirty from lack of washing. There was even a tentacle-faced Freelysh amongst the crowd, a full hydration pack at his feet to keep his membranes damp amidst the late summer sun. Tobias heaved a resigned sigh.

            “I admire their tenacity, but they’re going to be out here a while. The investigation is still ongoing, though I doubt Congress is going to do anything but give JekWare a slap on the wrist.” JekWare Targeting Solutions was the military contractor responsible for designing the automated weapons system which had been installed on the Consular-class frigate which had fired three missiles at the Arcturus Line yacht Red Lotus, crippling its drive and destroying a large portion of the craft. Naturally, the company had been quick to insist this was some sort of one-off malfunction. 

            “You don’t think the Senate will find any malfeasance on JekWare’s part?” Rigby asked.

            Tobias shrugged. “JekWare wasn’t as prominent back when I was serving, so I couldn’t speak to their reliability. Nowadays though, the Union Military has scaled back in-house production yet is still spread as thin as ever, so who knows what sorts of corners are getting cut. I will say that JekWare wouldn’t be under such criticism if not for that whole training fiasco back in ’86.” That had been a similar event to this one – automated weapons on a Union warship incorrectly firing at another craft – however the ’86 event had been against another Union warship during a training exercise with next to no casualties, thus received much less visibility and attention. “Regardless,” He continued. “With the Entente itself in contention, I figure one side doesn’t want the optics of finding actual wrongdoing in this case, while the other would be more than happy to.”

            “I don’t necessarily agree,” Rigby said. “Even if JekWare is found liable by the Senate committee, that doesn’t mean the Entente is finished. They are two different issues, and people can differentiate.”

            Tobias winced. “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the public. And a lot more faith than the politicians will, I imagine.” Their conversation was cut short as they neared the main entrance to Congress Hall when a low tone began playing in his ear, indicating an incoming call. Without looking at the source, he hit the button on his wrist uplink to answer. “Talk to me,” He said.

            “Five here,” Came Xanthe’s voice. “Four and I are still at the cathedral- the Senator just parted ways with his family, I imagine he’ll be over there momentarily.”

            “Copy,” Tobias replied. They had left Xanthe and Theck behind, both because Senator Sethell had also stayed behind to talk with one of the priests, but also because the former had wanted a few extra minutes to pray and Theck hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. “One and I are just arriving now.”

            “Copy that, Five out.” And with that short update, the call disconnected.

            “That Xanthe?” The Captain asked, likely already knowing the answer.

            Tobias nodded. “She says that Senator Sethell just left St. Stephen’s, and is on his way over now.” There was a protracted silence when Rigby didn’t respond, and Tobias appraised the Captain. “Everything okay?”

            Rigby’s eyes screwed up tightly. “We should have spoken to Sethell while we were still at the church.”

            Tobias considered that. Partash Vess had been very insistent that they not speak to Sethell until the pre-arranged meeting that afternoon. “You said yourself that it was the best option.” It was an opinion that he could now see she was second-guessing.

            “We’ll be meeting with Senator Sethell, along with Partash and Senator Kran. I’m afraid he won’t be able to speak as freely in front of either of those two.” Rigby replied.

            Tobias considered that. “That’s probably true, but we also knew that was a possibility. You said that confronting him at St. Stephen’s could be as likely to backfire as be of any help. Without Vess there to verify who we are, we’re just some nobodies asking him questions about things we aren’t supposed to know.”

            Some of the tension left Rigby’s eyes as she considered the conclusion she had agreed to. “I know,” She said, finally. “But I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize our ability to gather all the information necessary to rescue this girl.”

            “Agreed,” Tobias said. Although still holding reservations as to the actual whereabouts of Euphemia Sethell, his conscience had become more and more restless the further he thought about it. Tobias wasn’t sure if Rigby’s certainty had influenced him or if he was actually getting a bit of that same suspicious intuition, but his gut was telling him that danger was afoot. 

            They reached the main entrance to the Senate office annex of Congress Hall, off to the right side of the main building. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by plenty of common people mixed in with the more officially types, the former likely gathered to demand meetings with their representatives over all sorts of issues.

            The Union of Federated Systems was built as a federal republic, meaning that the elected delegates and senators received their mandate from the people themselves. That also meant that in theory the people were entitled to their representatives’ ear for any issues which came up. Naturally it wasn’t nearly as simple as that, and many citizens scheduled meetings with various committees or individual Congressmen only to be penciled in at earliest convenience – commonly months or even years later. Since Congress Hall wasn’t off-limits as it had been during the war, many concerned citizens just decided to come down and stake the building out, hoping to intercept their delegate or senator stepping out of the elevator or coming back from a smoke break. Sunday was no different it seemed, as Rigby and Tobias needed to muscle their way through an immobile crowd before coming to the front desk.

            “I am sorry, sir, but Delegate Kreki is unavailable for the next week.” Said one of several chrome reception drones standing behind the long desk. The robotic assistants stood vaguely humanoid, with lanky appendages and large golden eyes. They were all a few models older than the standard N-series reception drone, indicating that the Senate had opted for their lesser drones to serve this measly purpose.

            “You’ve told me that several times, already.” Grunted the older, bearded Human man standing opposite the drone. Dressed in all black, he wore a small black kippah atop his head, marking him as Jewish. “But as I’ve told you several times, I have sewage leaking into the basement of my synagogue, and I’d like someone to stop it!”

            “I am very sorry to hear that, sir,” Replied the drone, an affect of imitated regret in the feminine voice. “If you problem is a public works issue, then just give me the district where your establishment is located, and I can put you in touch with…”

            “I already was in touch with public works,” Interrupted the rabbi, stepping over the drone’s sentence. “They told me that the breached pipe was connected to several others, and they couldn’t shut it off without getting proper approval. It’s been four months now, and I would like Senator Kreki to get them to fix it!”

            “I understand your frustration, sir, but as I’ve already told you, Senator Kreki is unavailable for the next week. If you’d like to leave a message, I’d…”

            “We’ve already left several messages over the past month,” The rabbi interrupted again. “All haven’t received so much as an automated reply.”  

            “I assure you, sir, if you leave a message here Senator Kreki would be sure to get it.”

            The rabbi huffed an annoyed sigh. “Have you been listening to me? Nobody bothers to reply to anything we’ve said. I want to speak with Senator Kreki directly.” He looked the drone up and down. “Unless you’d like to come down and assist us in shoveling shit out of our basement.” He added, before the drone could reply with the same message about Kreki being unavailable.

            If drones could make facial expressions, this one would have looked taken aback. “Sir, I am not equipped for such a function. I am a N-0072 model reception drone, responsible for…”

            The rabbi waved a hand. “I know, I know. Thank you.” He sigh again. “Fine, please leave a message for Kreki, and please get it to her immediately, if you could. I will wait here.” He then proceeded to leave his name and address.

            A pause, as the drone’s eyes dimmed momentarily. “Very good, sir. Your message has been logged. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The rabbi didn’t respond, just stamped towards the corner of the room to wait.

            “Glad to see they’re prioritizing things that matter.” Tobias huffed, as he and Rigby approached the now-open space in front of that same drone. As soon as they approached, the robot seemed to appraise their getup.

            “Good morning Lieutenant, good morning dignitary. How may I assist you today?”

            “Good morning,” Rigby said, pleasantly. “We’re looking for Senator Sethell’s office, please.”

            The drone raised an arm, pointing towards the leftmost elevator. “Level Fourteen, the receptionist down there will redirect you.” On cue, the elevator door opened. “Please step inside.”

Rigby nodded. “Thank you.”

            “Have a pleasant day!” The drone said as they walked away. Not a small number of the assembled civilians gave them sideways glances, undoubtedly frustrated at how easily they were able to bypass the unhelpful front desk.

            “I don’t think they’re too fond of us,” Tobias commented.

            “Understandable.” Rigby reminded him. “These uniforms weren’t just to look nice, after all.”

            They stepped into the elevator, the receptionist having automatically keyed in their desired floor, a safety measure to ensure that those visiting only had access to floors for which they had specific permission. It took no time at all for the car to descend to floor 14, a low chime echoing as the elevator halted and door opened, revealing another small foyer – largely empty this time – with another desk manned by a robotic receptionist.

            “Good morning,” The drone said, its voice male and sounding much less enthusiastic than the one at the main entrance. “Do you have an appointment?”

            “Yes,” Rigby replied, as they came to the desk. “We’re here to see Senator Dimas Sethell.”

            “Names?”

            “Dignitary Neystara Wright, liaison to the Military Appropriations Committee.” She announced, using the fake name that went with the outfit. She motioned to Tobias. “This is Lieutenant Paul Deacon, Union Navy.”

            Tobias forced a genial grin, adding a military nod for effect as the drone appraised them both. He always felt dirty using aliases and assumed names, and this time was no different. To him it always smacked somewhat of lying, a sin he tried his best not to commit. Granted it was an unfortunate consequence of the job, as their real names probably came with too many red flags if run through Congress’s systems, that whole kerfuffle in Ruutharii space the previous year notwithstanding.

            The drone returned to its work, processing their request. “I do not see you on Senator Sethell’s schedule for today.” It replied, evenly.

            Tobias brow furrowed, looking to Rigby. She had done her best to hide similar annoyance, holding her smile. “There must be some mistake then, we have a 12’o clock with the Senator.”

            “About?” The drone asked.

            “Veterans Benefits,” Tobias replied, continuing with the next bit of their cover. This lie was more explicit. “There are a few concerning bits in the latest appropriations bill, and since it still needs to clear the Senate, we’d like to clear a few things up. You must understand, we take the care of our former servicemen very seriously.”

            The drone seemed to think on that for a moment. “I understand.” It said, finally. “However, you’re not on the list for today. Perhaps I could put you down to meet in a few days.”

            Tobias’ heart sank. They made it past the first checkpoint, but it was now the second which would bog them down in bureaucracy. Rigby persisted. “As I’m sure you’re well aware, the appropriations bill is due to come to the Senate floor just after the Entente bill. Next week would be too late. Besides, I mentioned that we’ve already pre-arranged to meet with the senator.”

            “But I have no record of your meeting on the schedule.” The drone insisted. “I can’t just let you in without…”

“N-5, it’s alright. You can let them through; they’re with me.”

            Tobias turned his head to the source of the voice, to see an attractive young Dorylaetian woman moving over to them. She seemed somewhere mid-to-late 20s, sauntering over with the hustle of someone who’s used to running up and down these hallways on a daily basis. The woman came to a stop beside the desk, where the drone turned its glowing gaze on her. “I do not understand.” It replied. “If they are with you, then why is it not logged in the computer?”

             “Senator Sethell’s been dealing with all sorts of glitches with the scheduling software as of late.” The young woman said.

            “Again?”

            She shrugged. “The technical department still refuses to upgrade to version 4.7.”

            That got a digital representation of a scoff from the drone. “I’ve told them time and time again that 4.7 would be much more efficient than what we have currently and…” It paused re-appraising Rigby and Tobias. “I’m terribly sorry for this; Miss Telara will take care of you.”

            “Thank you,” Rigby said, as they turned their attention to the Dorylaetian woman, Telara. She nodded to them

            “Dignitary Wright, Lieutenant Deacon, please follow me.” She ran eyes over both of them, Tobias noticing that she lingered on him for a second longer. He shot back one of those boyish military grins that women seemed to love, and Telara quickly averted her gaze, a shy smile creasing her face, the pure white of her teeth accentuating her purplish-blue skin. Seeming to remember where she was and her purpose here, she shook it away and waved for them to follow. “This way.”

            She led them down the long granite-floored corridor, all sorts of eccentric wall hangings, artworks, and traditional sculptures from any number of civilizations lining their sides. In between these accoutrements were doors, each labeled with the names of the certain senator whose office occupied them. The hallway itself was relatively empty, only the occasional aide or drone passing them, well on their own way to accomplish some task or another.

            “Sorry about that,” Telara added in a low voice as they walked. “Senator Kran thought it best you stay off the official manifest. I presume you’re the outside contractors who are here to help Senator Sethell out?”

            “That’s right,” Rigby replied, matching her tone. Tobias forced his expression even but had to internally laugh at that moniker. ‘Outside contractors’ gave an undeserved officiality to their work. He guessed that ‘smugglers’ wouldn’t have flown as well if Vess had introduced them that way.

            Telara let out a deep breath. “And not a moment too late, either. The Senator’s been positively beside himself for the past week, and Kran has refused to let him seek out any help.”

            Tobias frowned. “So we’ve been told.”

            “Euphemia’s a good kid, she’s just at that age where the cool thing to do is to rebel against everything your parents stand for.” Telara continued. “We’ve all been there.”

            “Do you know her well?” Rigby asked.

            Telara nodded. “Not terribly well, but she’s been by the Senator’s office over the past year and a half I’ve been working here. I’ve been going for an advanced degree in politics and intergalactic relations, and the two of us would talk shop whenever she stopped by.” A smile creased Telara’s lips. “Euphemia may only be seventeen, but she really knows her stuff.”

            An expression of understanding came to Rigby’s face. “I caught a few of her interviews last night; I’ve seen what she can do.”

            Telara’s smile lingered a moment longer, before slowly fading away. “The Senator and she may not see eye-to-eye, but she’s a good kid. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with her, but I wouldn’t want to see her harmed.” They reached the last door on the right, the decorations around it of distinctly Dorylaetian make. This coupled with the large golden placard reading “SENATOR DIMAS SETHELL, DORYLAETIUM” resting at the center of the door told them they had finally reached their destination. The door automatically unlatched and opened itself as Telara approached, revealing the modest outer office to be a wide, red-carpeted room draped with same-colored tapestries. At the leftmost side of the room was a wide floor-to-ceiling window offering a sweeping view of the Horizon District beyond, where tall buildings stretched to the clouds above, glinting in the midday sun. At the right side of the room was another hallway, this one smaller, which led out of sight. From the small offices and conference rooms visible, it was clear those were where other staffers and aides normally worked day-in and day-out. Currently nobody else was in the suite, on account of the weekend hour.

            Telara led them inside the suite, motioning to a row of several chairs arrayed against the left wall, next to the window. “Please, have a seat. Senator Sethell should be here any second now.”

            “Thank you.” Rigby replied. Tobias took the seat next to her, as Telara took up her post at the wide desk straight in front of the main door, which guarded another door, its label clearly identifying it as the senator’s office itself.

            The wait wasn’t very long – perhaps five more minutes or so – before movement could be heard outside the suite. The door automatically opened for two men to enter, both chatting softly with one another. Tobias immediately recognized the shorter of the two as Partash Vess, no longer in his gaudy civilian clothes, but instead the carefully manicured outfit of a high-placed Congress aide.

            The second man, Human, Tobias didn’t immediately recognize by face, but he caught the man’s own outfit – a light cream-colored dress shirt, along with a cloak not unlike Rigby’s draped over his right arm. This cloak, however, wasn’t red like the Captain’s but blue in color, embroidered with golden frills, indicating his station as much higher than that of dignitary. As Tobias got a better look at the man’s thick mane of gray hair and perpetually serious countenance, he then recognized Senator Francis Kran, one of Novaterra’s own elected senators, ostensibly making him – along with Senator Drella Kreki, whom their rabbi friend had been appealing to – Tobias’ representative in the Senate.  

            The conversation was hastily cut short when the two men crossed the threshold, noticing that three pairs of eyes had locked on them. Vess immediately offered a friendly nod to Captain Rigby, receiving one back. Kran did nothing of the sort, instead coming to a stop halfway through the room, looking back to the door for the final member of their entourage.

            Coming in a few steps behind Vess and Kran, Tobias recognized the man himself: Senator Dimas Sethell. Dressed in the same outfit as Kran, Sethell was a tall man, though his posture was markedly hunched. He looked much less put together than Tobias remembered from holocasts and speeches he’d seen, the man’s slightly graying dark hair making him look aged and haggard instead of intelligently dignified. Coupled with this his blue skin which was starting to lose its bright hue – a Dorylaetian sign of aging. His distinctly thick eyebrows gave a very Human look of seriousness to him, although his expression was anything but. As he stepped into the room, Senator Sethell’s amber eyes were locked forward, outwardly intent but clearly vacant to anyone who was paying good attention.

            “Senator Sethell,” Telara announced, seeming to ignore Vess and Kran for the moment. “Your guests are here. I kept things off the schedule, and cleared them in. Just like you said.”

            It was only then that Sethell took notice of Tobias and Rigby seated to his left, and the look of surprise on his face was clear. “Thank you,” He said absently. Sethell’s eyes tracked over to Partash Vess and Kran, only seeming to properly process the comment when he received a nod from the shorter of the two men. “Follow me, please,” He said hastily, crossing the remainder of the room to his office door, which slid open. Tobias and Rigby wasted no time in following as Sethell led the way towards the office.

            As they entered the office, Tobias was amazed to see how it somehow managed to eclipse the waiting room for sheer elegance. The room itself was a semicircle, with three long windows not unlike in the waiting room spanning each side, and at the end of the room. The walls were painted spring green and adorned with artwork of Dorylaetian make, much of it religious in nature. Behind the long desk and on either side of the window were icons of Christ and the Virgin Mary respectively, both figures appearing with blue skin, the Blessed Mother in particular as Our Lady of Quenthelne, the 25th century apparition credited with bringing many Dorylaetian to the practice of the Christian faith.

            Senator Sethell led them to the center of the room, where two long couches and two armchairs flanked a large holotable. “Please, have a seat.” he said, motioning to the couches.

            Tobias and Rigby took the couch one the left side of the holotable, while Senator Kran and Vess sat opposite them. As the doors to the waiting room closed behind them, Sethell collapsed into one of the armchairs. Taking a deep breath, he then appraised the visitors. The expression on his face was one of a man who hadn’t slept in several days, coupled with a clear discomfort. He seemed to choose his words very carefully. “I take it you two are the mercenaries that Partash hired?” Tobias internally bristled at the word ‘mercenary’ and knew that the Captain felt the same. Still, he kept quiet.

            Vess nodded emphatically. “This is Captain Judith Rigby, whom I worked with extensively during the war. And this…” He looked Tobias up and down. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

            “Tobias Napht,” He replied, then motioned to his outfit. “I was a Lieutenant way back in a past life, but it’s been years since I’ve donned this uniform.”

            “I see,” Vess replied.

            A spark came to Sethell’s pale face as he rose for a moment, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            “Likewise, Senator,” Rigby replied, grasping the man’s hand. Tobias followed suit, surprised that the Senator’s grip remained firm and confident, despite the clear melancholy which possessed his countenance. All three returned to their seats.

            Vess continued. “And this is my boss, Senator Francis Kran.”

            “This whole thing is a mess; I hope you can help us resolve it.” Kran said briskly, not so much as twitching for a handshake or greeting.

            The undaunted Rigby nodded. “That’s our intention, senator.” She looked over at Sethell, whose eyes were locked on the holotable, rubbing his hands together. “Sir, Partash gave me the general rundown of the situation with your daughter. We would like to hear the story from your point of view.”

            Sethell’s eyes didn’t move from the holotable, and he seemed not to hear Rigby’s words. “I know this is wrong; all wrong. Euphemia’s always done things like this, but never for so long, and never without so much as a regular call home. I just…” His eyes screwed up tightly. “…just can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, terribly wrong. She’s in deep trouble, I know she is, I just can’t…” A pained expression crossed the man’s face. “This is a mistake; I know this is a mistake.” He looked to Kran. “We should be speaking with the Novaterra Security Forces about this.” Tobias and Rigby exchanged glances. So apparently they weren’t the only ones with misgivings as to Euphemia’s fate.  

            “We’ve already discussed this, Dimas.” Kran replied, a slight twinge of sympathy coming across in his gruff voice. “If word of this gets out…it would be disastrous for the Entente, disastrous for the senate, and disastrous for your daughter.”

            Tobias turned a raised eyebrow on Kran. “Begging your pardon, Senator, but how do you figure that last one?”

            Kran returned a look of condescension. “I didn’t realize the Union Navy relied on naivete, Lieutenant. Euphemia’s relationship with her father is…tenuous at best. An entire police department coming down on her would only push the dear girl to pull another stunt as ridiculous as this.”

            “I think it would be best to let her father make that call.” Tobias countered. They looked to Senator Sethell, whose eyes were still locked on that holotable with that pained expression.

            “I’m afraid he might be right,” Sethell replied.

            “Sir,” Rigby began, her voice low and soothing. “I understand your fears and the…political considerations of this whole situation but know that we have the resources to investigate this quietly, and my only desire is to ensure that your daughter is safe.”

            There was a dry chuckle, but not from Sethell. Tobias looked over at Kran, who seemed amused by Rigby’s comments. “Come now, mercenary. Please don’t insult our intelligence. All you people care about is money; let’s not kid ourselves with talk of altruism.”

            All eyes fell on Kran. Tobias gave him a particularly suspicious look. “You have a funny way of asking for someone’s help, Senator.” He said. Not even five minutes into having known this guy, and Tobias was already forming a rather uncharitable opinion of him.

            Rigby only smiled sweetly at Kran. How she remained constantly unphased and pleasant in the face of such a blatant asshole, Tobias would never quite understand. “Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and fall to ruin. I firmly believe that a man’s life doesn’t consist in the abundance of material things like money, and I don’t put the life of another – especially that of a teenage girl – above some easy payday.” She paused. “I don’t know what lurid stories of the past Partash has spun for you, but I’ve tried to leave as many of my immoral scruples back where they belong.”

            Kran gave a sour expression, but the Captain’s words brought some life to Sethell’s eye. “That’s Holy Scripture,” He said, immediately catching Rigby’s biblical allusion.

            “Gospel of Luke, if I’m not mistaken.” Tobias added. Where in the book was anyone’s guess, Father Thomas and Theck always being the ones who better remembered chapter and verse.  

            “I might have forgotten to mention,” Partash said, suddenly. “Judith over here is one of yours. A damned inquisitive Papist if there ever was one.”

            “So long as the Lord allows,” Rigby replied, with a bashful grin. “Partash may have been a bit tight-lipped about my religious convictions, but I’m sure he painted a more vivid picture of my actions during the war. I worked closely with Entente logistics officers running supplies back and forth over enemy lines, and even ran an op or two with Intelligence. Lieutenant Napht over here was a member of Azure Squad during the war and was present at the Battle of Tren’taar.”

            Sethell’s amazed face fell on Tobias. “You were at Tren’taar?”

            Tobias nodded. The mention of that battle, the first engagement in the Ascendant’s Heart Campaign which ultimately ended the Galactic War, snapped him back a decade. “Yes sir. My unit was the first to go in. We inserted onto the planet and disabled the shields so that the Seventh Fleet could jump in unmolested.”

            Senator Sethell took a deep breath. “From what I’ve heard, that operation went off without a hitch. The war may have continued for another several years if you all didn’t successfully take Tren’taar.” His gaze passed between the two now assembled before him. “A war hero and a privateer, both Catholics to boot. That’s a new one for me.”

            “If you think that’s too much to handle, wait until you meet the rest of our crew.” Tobias commented.

            Kran gave them a sideways look, his sudden suspicion unmistakable. “And how many exactly are in your crew?”

            “Normally nine, currently eight, including myself and Tobias.” Rigby replied. “All specialists of the highest integrity, I assure you. If you can trust me, I can assure you that my crew is similarly trustworthy.” Tobias considered that, specifically if he would include Javyar, playboy and criminal extraordinaire, as ‘trustworthy’.

            Sethell’s attitude had slumped back somewhat into his standard malaise. “I suppose I have little choice in the matter, if I want to find my daughter.” He paused, scratching his chin. “What would you like to know?”

            “Please start at the beginning,” Rigby suggested. “Tell us about Euphemia.”

            Senator Sethell leaned back in his chair, the shadow of thought crossing over his face. “She’s sixteen years old and attends one of the Catholic secondary schools up here in the Horizon District – St. Sabina’s, if that will help your investigation. She’s always been a good-natured kid, if not a bit rambunctious, which isn’t too strange given her age.”

            “What about friends?” Rigby asked. “Who does she usually hang around with?”

            “She has a group she mainly spends time with from her school, all relatively good kids. I work closely with many of their parents up here in Congress, so their kinship with Euphemia is only natural.” He paused, before quickly adding: “Most of them are also the children of those in politics, so I think it’s helpful for her to have a group of friends who can understand where she’s coming from.” Sethell grimaced. “You have to understand; my three boys were much older when I was elected to the Senate, so it didn’t affect them as much. Euphemia was thirteen, thus her life was much more affected by the change. I…admit I wasn’t as there for her amidst it all as I should have been.”

            “There’s only so much that can be done,” Kran commented. “It’s a very demanding life, trying to manage an entire nation.” His tone conveyed sympathy, however with the detachment with someone whom Tobias assumed didn’t have any children, thus couldn’t quite understand the struggle.

            “What about her political activities? We understand you and she don’t see eye-to-eye on most things.” Rigby said. Tobias figured that assessment was a bit of an understatement, recalling some of the more lurid headlines of Euphemia’s antics, along with her performance in the interviews the Captain has told him about.

            Sethell let out a mirthless chuckle. “That’s putting it mildly. Euphemia has a…penchant for political stunts. Like any kid her age, she has a grandiose image of her own ideas, and I think she finds supporting causes which I disagree with – and supporting them very loudly, mind you – as her way of rebelling.” He shrugged helplessly. “And what organization isn’t going to give the daughter of a senator the largest microphone to yell into?”

            “Can you speak more to that?” Tobias asked. “What sorts of causes are we talking about?”

            “Take your pick,” Senator Kran interrupted. “She’s anti-terraforming, anti-tariff, anti-military contractor, anti-star energy, and particularly anti-Entente.”

            “That’s what we were arguing about the night she…” Sethell winced. “She left.”

            “The Entente, you mean?” Rigby asked. Sethell nodded.

            “As I’m sure you both are very much aware considering the media coverage, the Entente renewal vote is coming to the floor this Friday. It passed the House of Delegates with a very narrow margin, and the Senate is split right down the middle. Francis and I have worked to put together a solid coalition to achieve the needed plurality, but anything can happen between now and Friday. I’m not thrilled with the idea of continuing the Entente, especially with the Talosian Empire in tatters, but there have been some worrying reports out of the Ascendancy, and we need some sort of defense pact in effect. Granted, my daughter does not agree.”

            “What happened that night?”

            The senator folded his hands, calling back what was clearly a distasteful memory for him. “There’s a special invite-only gala dinner this Wednesday night, where all dignitaries of the Entente will be in attendance. Provided we have enough senators on-board to vote ‘yes’ come Wednesday – which, as I said, is looking positive, albeit tenuously – the dinner is supposed to be a pre-emptive ‘thank you’ of sorts. As one of the headlining senators, I am expected to be there, as is my family. I was trying to explain to Euphemia that despite our disagreement it really would mean a lot if she went, to which she very vehemently disagreed.” A sigh. “I’m not proud of it, but I may have gotten a bit taken with the moment, and the argument quickly became loud, and I said a couple of things I wish I hadn’t. I told her she was being selfish, and I tried to explain that like it or not, the Entente wasn’t so much about me versus her, but about wider galactic peace for the generations to come. It quickly devolved into a shouting match centered on the Samatria Disaster and how Euphemia sees the Entente as the direct cause for it. The argument ended about as well as many of our disagreements do, with Euphemia calling me a ‘wretched disturber of the peace’ – her particular style – and storming off to her room.”

            “And that’s when she left?”

            “Presumably. My initial intent was to leave her alone for the night, allowing us both time to cool down. My wife Priscilla intercepted me before I could go off to bed, however, and rather sternly reminded me that it was my duty as a father to hold my temper around my daughter, and that it wasn’t a very good example to set for our younger children.” A tender if not mournful smile creased the Senator’s face as he recalled that memory. “We decided it best if I went and apologized to Euphemia immediately, as a show of good faith. When we knocked on her door, however, there wasn’t any reply. We tried the door, and it seems Euphemia hadn’t even bothered to lock it. There was no sign of her, save the open balcony door and a note sitting on her end table.” Sethell paused, rubbing his face with his hands. “This is all my fault.”

            Rigby gave him a moment to process that before continuing. “What did the note say?”

            “Not much,” Sethell sigh. “She just said that she was feeling excessively stressed as of late, and our constant bickering over the Entente was grating on her last nerve. She said she needed to get away for a few days.”

            “Was there any indication as to where she had gone?”

            The Dorylaetian senator shrugged. “Nothing from what we could see. It was clear that she had dressed up for wherever she went, and my first assumption was that club where she and her friends sometimes go – this sleazy place down near the old Ironbound District called Stardust, where they don’t tend to ask questions and allow all manners of underage activity go on.”

            Kran grumbled. “We’ve been trying to get that place shut down for years, but owner is a personal friend of the district overseer.” Tobias made a mental note to check the place out.

            “And what about the phone call the next day?” He asked. “She called your wife?”

            Sethell nodded. “Priscilla got a call just after midday. The calling code wasn’t a familiar line, though when my wife answered there was no doubt it was Euphemia. She said that she needed to get away for a bit and was spending some time with her new boyfriend. Priscilla tried to find out where she had gone, but Euphemia was very cagy with her details. She said she’d be back as soon as she could and hung up. Efforts to reach her at that same number were blocked. That was a little over a week ago.”

            Rigby leaned forward, steepling her fingers under her chin. “Partash said that neither you nor your wife knew anything about this ‘new boyfriend’. Is it possible that it could be someone from her school? What are her usual dating habits?”

            “That’s a large part of the puzzle. Euphemia isn’t one to really involve herself in dates,” Sethell said. “She’s brought home male friends of hers over the years – two come to mind – but both are her own age, and good, respectable Catholic gentlemen to boot. Both families are friends of ours from St. Stephen’s, and I know the parents personally. Neither would have the means to whisk Euphemia away from home at a moment’s notice.” Sethell began rubbing his hands back and forth. “I worry that she’s fallen prey to an older man from one of these political groups she’s a part of, or someone she met at that club.” Tobias grimaced at either of those possibilities.

            “You’ve already mentioned different political positions which Euphemia has taken,” Rigby said. “What about specific groups? Who’s running the anti-Entente movement?”

            Kran scoffed. “Half of the parties in Congress, to start. The split even goes down party lines; Senator Sethell’s own Catholic Action Party has senators and delegates on either side of the question.”

            “When it comes to non-congressional movements,” Vess cut in. “The Union Pacifist Coalition raises the most money and has the loudest supporters.” He looked to Sethell. “I believe Euphemia attended some of their rallies in the past.”

            “That’s right,” Sethell said, his voice begrudging. “She and some of her friends attended a protest against the Salvan defense contract we signed last month. Euphemia spoke at that rally, calling on us to stop supporting what she termed the ‘military-industrial network’.”

            That name instantly reminded Tobias of something. “Salvan as in Salvan-Abe Corporation? The arms company?” He had run across the company many times throughout his navy days. 

            “The very same,” Vess replied. “The Union military’s equipment has become…rather lackluster compared to what you may have used back in your days, and we needed someone to design a new package that’s more comparable to what the Felxarans are using. Salvan won the contract. As you could imagine, those with more of an anti-war bent would take issue with that.”

            Tobias raised an eyebrow. “And the fact that Salvan was heavily involved in supplying the Parfful Free States has nothing to do with the controversy, I’m sure.”

            Senator Kran again assessed Tobias with that condescending expression. “Lieutenant Napht, I know you’ve been out of the game for a while but isn’t the ‘70s anymore. Not a scrap of incontrovertible evidence was ever produced linking the PFS to the Ruutharii Ascendancy, thus there’s no evidence linking Salvan to the Ruutharii either.”

            Tobias nodded. “Naturally we wouldn’t be able to find any physical evidence; PFS territory was nearly decimated by the war. Whatever wasn’t destroyed by the fighting was surely destroyed by the PFS when they applied for intergalactic recognition. Couldn’t participate in ‘right and civil’ galactic diplomacy with Ascendancy links, now could they?” Tobias replied. He held the senator’s gaze, the man’s clear disdain bleeding through the mask of pleasantry. “Our intel was clear that the Ruutharii were providing covert support to the PFS and Salvan was pegged as their go-between.”

            Before Senator Kran could respond to that accusation, Partash Vess cut in. “The board and leadership of Salvan Corporation – whatever their involvements with the Ascendancy years ago – was completely gutted after they merged with the Talosian-based Abe Arms Group back in ’83. AAG was the nominal survivor of the merging, and it is their leadership which controls the merged corporation today. Any criticisms as to the supposed selling out of Union interests to the Ascendancy are completely unfounded.” The aide chimed in with the precision of a logistics bot.

            “That so?” Tobias asked raising an eyebrow and catching Kran’s diminutive minion in his gaze. “Did you personally vet every single worker in that company?” He again questioned how it was possible that this man has once served as a companion to one as capable and honorable as the Captain.

            “Regardless,” Rigby said, her voice cutting through the tension. Tobias internally chided himself for allowing Kran to get under his skin. “Is there anyone who’s a part of this Union Pacifist Coalition who we can identify as a possible co-conspirator with Euphemia?”

            “None that we’ve been able to identify.” Vess chirped. “They’re not exactly a group whose member sheet is available to us.”

            “And we’d rather if you didn’t go trying to speak with anyone from that group.” Kran added. “If any word got out about Euphemia’s disappearance it would be a disaster, but particularly if it made it to the Coalition.”

            Rigby’s eyes fell on Sethell. “Sir, it’s your daughter, your call.”

            “Francis is right,” He replied. “Even if the Coalition did facilitate this, they’d be sure to keep things as quiet as possible. I’d appreciate if you could steer clear of them, unless convinced there’s a lead worth pursuing.”

            The Captain seemed to consider this. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Any other inclinations as to who Euphemia may have run off with, or who may have planned this?”

            Senator Sethell thought a moment. “I’m not sure, but I’ll try and see if I can come up with anything. I…” He paused, his face suddenly taking on a troubled look. “There’s was something which was mentioned at one of the closed committee sessions last week, I…” Sethell began reaching towards the holotable, looking to call up some file or recording.

            “Ah,” Senator Kran cut him off with a hand. “They don’t have the proper clearance for that.”

            Sethell frowned. “But Francis, don’t you remember? Last week, one of the JekWare executives we were interviewing said something very…alarming. We both commented on it.” Tobias perked up at the mention of the now-infamous defense contractor.

            Kran’s expression remained firm. “And we both agreed that it was likely an offhanded comment which meant nothing. I’m sorry Dimas, but I can’t have a crew of mercenaries running around with that sort of information.”

            Rigby frowned. “Any information which is provided will only help us find Euphemia. We don’t care for whatever political squabbles you may be dealing with outside of that.”

            Kran raised a bushy eyebrow. “No? You’re saying it wouldn’t be something worth selling to the highest bidder for a few extra credits?” Before Rigby could respond, he continued. “Oh right, you’re virtuous mercenaries; I forgot.”

            Tobias narrowed his eyes at the slight. “I could almost guarantee you that we’ve broken less laws than some of your colleagues.” Kran’s eyes lit up like supernova at that one.

            “Tobias,” Rigby muttered, almost imperceptibly. Again, he internally scolded himself, allowing his building anger to dissipate.

            “If any of the information is relevant,” Chimed in Vess, looking to push past the standoff. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble figuring things out.”

            Sethell, looking defeated, was about to speak when the room’s intercom buzzed to life. “Senator?” It was Telara, the secretary. “I have Senators Bel and Chorrell here to see you.”

            The senator sigh, reaching over to the holotable and keying the comms on. “Can you tell them our meeting is delayed an hour? I’m not finished with this one.” Tobias watched Kran squirm uncomfortably in his chair at that.

            A pause. “Senator Bel says he has a conflict then,” Telara replied. “Should I check tomorrow’s schedule?”

            Kran’s hand fell on Sethell’s arm before the latter could respond. “Dimas, I think we should take this one. Partash can see our guests out, and they can always contact you later if they have trouble.”

            Sethell frowned. “I suppose they should get started on their investigation,” He agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Is there anything else I could tell you?”

            Tobias considered that. Investigating the club Stardust was the logical next step, along with seeing if any of the anti-Entente groups could provide a further lead. He knew that the Captain wasn’t about to let that JekWare comment go without looking deeper into that, indicating that another discussion with Partash Vess was on the horizon. Between that and Javyar’s current work to identify any underworld contacts who might have information about something untoward, they had their work cut out for them.

            “I think that’s enough for now,” Rigby said, voicing Tobias’ thought. “I trust we can contact you if there’s anything else we need to know?”

            Sethell nodded quickly. “Yes, please. Telara will be here for most of the day, so she can get you whatever you need to know.” The senator seemed to catch Kran’s disapproving look because he quickly added: “Within reason, of course.”

            “Of course.” Rigby agreed.

            Senator Sethell stood, eyeing the two of them. “You’ll want to get the payment straightened out first, I presume?”

            Rigby and Tobias also stood, and the Captain held out her hand for the senator. He grasped it. “We can worry about payment later, Senator.” She said. “Your daughter is missing, and we’re going to make sure she’s safe. There’s no upfront payment required for that one.”

            For the first time, a genuine glimmer of hope entered Sethell’s face. “God bless you, if only all mercenaries were as honorable.” He said, with a slight chuckle. “May Christ be with you, Judith. Tobias.”

            The Captain grinned. “Pax vobiscum, Senator.”