The function room aboard the ship was apparently seldom used - the last time had been a barely-attended press conference marking the tenth anniversary of its launch. Sometimes it was used for spare storage when the hold was full, though: crates tied down next to bolted-down tables and chairs. That was still a 'function', though, so the name was still correct.

It was serving a different function right now, however.

Atoy Muzazi sat there, hands balled into guilty fists on his lap, as Minister Goley berated the gathered crew.

"On your ship," the tall man said, marching back and forth as he worked himself into a lather. "On your watch. Under your very noses!"

With the last shouted word, he turned and slammed his metal fist onto the table, leaving a sizable dent. His usually well-structured grey hair was in shambles, his skin an angry shade of red.

Someone audibly gulped.

When the Minister spoke again, he was murder quiet. "I would like," he said. "An explanation."

Muzazi stood up. As the last one to see the victim, the fault was with him and him alone. "Sir," he said. "I claim full responsibility -"

Goley cut him off. "Were you operating the security systems?"

"No."

"Were you assigned to guard the prisoner?"

"No."

"Were you firing the turrets?"

"No."

"Then sit back down and stop wasting my time, Special Officer."

Muzazi nodded and sat back down. If a Minister of the Supremacy said so, then he truly wasn't at fault. People did not rise to superior rank by being incorrect about such things.

Minister Goley took a deep breath, calming himself a little as he sat down. "The kidnapping of a Supremacy Cogitant - one sent to us by the central government, no less - is not a good look. If this gets out, Caelus' position in the Body will be severely impacted. This cannot get out of the system until the situation is resolved. Am I clear?"

One of Goley's advisors shifted uncomfortably in their seat.

"Sir," he said, tugging at his collar. "I'm sure the central government would want to be informed of this as soon as possible."

Goley waved him off. "They will be informed - informed that a minor incident took place, that the abducted individual was promptly recovered, and that the offenders were captured or, preferably, killed."

The advisor half-stood up from his seat as if he was going to argue further, but sat again a second later, eyes down. "Yes, sir."

Muzazi watched the display with deep admiration. The duty of the Body, the assembly of Ministers - was to execute the will of the Supreme - and so he was also an expert on executing his own will. The ultimate expression of power was the world taking on the shape you desired.

A world where the virtuous prevailed and the evil suffered, where incidents like this could never take place … that was what Muzazi desired.

"Special Officer," called Minister Goley.

Muzazi stood, snapping to attention. "Sir."

"I'm exercising my authority of ministerial override. You are to put your current assignment on hold and proceed down to the surface of Caelus Breck. The system is on lockdown - if the kidnappers are anywhere, they will be there."

He nodded. "I will execute them without fail."

"See that you do. Once you're on the surface, you'll be under the temporary command of Lord Mayor Rikhail. Have him help you organise the search."

"Of course."

"You're dismissed. Proceed immediately," Goley said, turning away from Muzazi and launching into a new rant targeted at the crew at large.

Muzazi left the room and entered the outer hallway, muffled shouts following through the door behind him. His hand brushed against Luminescence's hilt, tracing the tiny crack in the woodwork there. The coward Ruth Blaine's work. The Aether Application she'd used at the end of their short duel, just before fleeing like a rat, had had some kind of reflective function. The force Luminescence had exerted had rebounded against it.

A difficult ability to handle, but now he was prepared for it. There was no shortage of ways to attack indirectly.

Marching down the halls to the secondary hangar, Muzazi checked the news on his script. The People's Word had no information regarding the incident, nor did any of the biased lesser news channels. So far, at least, there had been no leaks.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. During the duel with Ruth Blaine, he'd suffered a nasty blow to the back of his head - the result of flying backwards into a wall. The ship had a plentiful stock of Panacea, so the wound had been fully healed, but the feeling of having fungus sprayed into your wounds was strange all the same.

The small single-occupant craft Muzazi had arrived on, the Cold Spot, had already been prepared for launch in the hangar-bay. It was designed specifically for use by Special Officers - just enough room for them to sit in the cockpit and transport their personal equipment.

He tapped a button on his script and the cockpit roof slid open, allowing him entry. Climbing in, Muzazi lay down on his back, allowing the roof to slide back over his body and - a second later - display half-a-dozen holographic consoles with which the craft could be piloted.

Muzazi was often grateful he wasn't claustrophobic. In more than one way, the Cold Spot's cockpit was like a great glass coffin.

"Computer," he said, voice surprisingly loud in the small space.

"Responding," the synthesised voice replied.

"Autopilot to first available government landing on Caelus Breck. Wake me when permissions are required."

"Roger roger," it said chirpily, followed swiftly by the sound of the engines powering up. A low rumble that quickly grew intolerable; Muzazi slid a finger across one of the displays and cancelled the outside noise. With another finger, he turned on the audioscape of the forest, birds chirping and leaves rustling.

Basking in the quiet peace, Muzazi closed his eyes. He had much to consider.

Ruth Blaine could not be allowed to continue living. Muzazi didn't care that he hadn't beaten her - that could result only from his own deficiency. But by abandoning their duel, she had refused to prove that she was superior to him. Escape was the victory of cowards.

Strength existed for the purpose of enforcing your own will. It formed a great net that bound those without power, preventing them from falling into the abyss below.

Protecting the weak was the single obligation of the strong. Without such protection, how else would the weak become strong as well?

Dragan Hadrien. Muzazi had shared but a single conversation with him, but he could tell just from that that he was a loyal servant of the Supremacy, devoted to its advancement over his own.

He could not allow harm to come to the boy.

-

Augustus Rikhail, Lord Mayor of Caelus Breck, sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He had just received some very bad news. A Special Officer was coming down into his jurisdiction.

Why? Was this to do with the lockdown that had just been announced?

A bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck. What had they found out about? His dealings with the Hyena? The deaths of those reporters? The missing funds? He couldn't come up with a defense until he knew how heavy the executioner's axe was.

The Lord Mayor's office was right on the top floor of the Heart Building, a cylindrical tower of light and glory which rose far above the capital city of Breck Kor. The thing was so big that it had been lowered down from space, driven down like a stake through the jungles that surrounded the city.

A symbol of the Supremacy's accomplishments. Of his accomplishments.

He couldn't allow them to take it away from him. Measures would have to be taken. If there was somebody behind this, it was Goley - the Minister had hated him for years, always wanted an excuse to remove him.

If he got rid of Goley, perhaps the problem would go away. The empty Minister position that would leave was quite enticing, too. Possible, yes, it was possible, but difficult. He'd have to plan carefully to survive this.

Rikhail glanced at the information he'd managed to pull together about the Special Officer on his way.

Atoy Muzazi, Crownless. A colony boy who'd attended a traditionalist combat school on Paradavarin. Promoted to Special Officer after distinguishing himself in battle against the Sharktooth pirate syndicate. Well regarded for his work in the field.

That's what it said, at least. But it didn't make sense.

The Lord Mayor was very proud of his information network. He'd made a great many friends throughout his time in the Supremacy, and those friends were always happy to pass him files they really shouldn't. They knew better than to refuse him. It'd never failed.

Until now.

There were some files, of course - recent engagements and reports regarding the Special Officer's conduct. But apart from those recent files, there was nothing. No classmates, no friends, no-one who had actually witnessed Atoy Muzazi. In reality, there was a blank void where the official records insisted a life was.

It looked for all the world like this Atoy Muzazi had just popped into existence two years ago.

He dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief, his breath staggered with anxiety.

Just who was coming down to his planet?