The tinted window of the hovercar rolled down and the two hulking brutes made a step back. There was panic on their large faces as they recognised the occupant of the vehicle. The moment lasted only for a second before the larger of the two removed the scanner from his utility belt and approached the car as timidly as a domesticated cat.

“My apologies Master Regis…” The orc moved his meaty fist halfway towards the opening. “A scan must be performed… Your words, master…”

“Be fast with it. I am in a hurry.” Martell applied the most bored expression he was capable of on his face.

While the beast placed the scanner in position, he waved his smaller counterpart to go to the guard booth and lift the fence. It was obvious the duo felt uncomfortable stopping their employer. However, they had their orders and if nothing else, they were quite obedient. In part because they were bred for this exact purpose and in part of the bulky cerebral implants sticking from the backs of their heads.

The pair were nothing like their savage ancestors, yet at the same time, they were a lot more dangerous. There was actually an ongoing debate in the academic circles if the orcs bred for security purposes could be considered sapient. Martell wanted to laugh at how pointless such a topic was, however, it could have major impact on his business if for some reason the truth came out and the brutes were classified as fully sapient species.

The machine in the orc’s hand made a small beeping sound and the indicator lit green. Immediately stepped away from the car and the beast lowered his head obediently, the apparatus at the back of its skull producing a low-pitched whine.

“Sorry for the inconvenience Master Regis. Identification confirmed.”

Without further discussion, the window closed and the hovercar accelerated on its path towards the private terminal. Inside the darkened interior, the reflector mask shattered revealing Cylin’s incredulous glare.

“You had me hide because of orcs?” She pointed a finger at the collar around her neck. “Is this a joke to you? Because I am sure I am not wearing it as a fashion statement.”

This produced a chuckle from the small elf-girl on the seat across her and a smile on Martell’s face. Cylin could feel her ire rise, she was going to burn the creature to ash.

“What did you expect? Do you have documents? Do you have clearance? If I had let you use your skill, the entire security network would have flared.” Mirth coloured Martell’s voice.

“You are infuriating!” The psychokinetic exclaimed in an overexaggerated manner. “You did it on purpose, just to get even for my outburst in the office!”

“It took you long enough to realise it.” He smiled at her. “You still hate hiding. You haven’t changed that much.” He chuckled.

“I ought to…” A small spark exploded from the tip of her finger.

The wide-eyed Viin was the only thing that stopped Cylin from exacting her revenge. The secretary might have been surprised that none of the carefully hidden alarm systems in the car had gone off, but that did not stop her finger from hovering over a concealed button at her armrest. Some sort of security function by the looks of it. As tempting as it was to check if it would be enough to stop her, Martell was right. Cylin couldn’t kill the elf-girl without a good reason. And all the ones she had so far were superficial at best. But at the same time, she couldn’t back out.

The two women stared at each other intently for a moment before Cylin scoffed and made a sour face, signalling that she had had enough of the former Second’s game. The elf relaxed and gently lowered her hand. In exchange, she received a pat on the head by her employer.

“Don’t worry Viin. The former Mrs Regis is harmless. As long as you do not antagonise her,” Martell removed his hand and adjusted his suit.

“Prepare a route back to the building. A secure one for four vehicles.” He added after lighting a bitter scented cigar.

“Understood sir.” The elf made an attempt to hide her blushed face behind the datapad. “Also, I would like to remind you, that you were quitting those.”

“Well now. She can produce intelligent thoughts.” Cylin crossed her arms over her chest. “You did say a similar thing a few years back.”

The accusing stares from both women in the car made him shrug and he crushed the cigar in the small ashtray built into the door next to him. The final few minutes of their journey was spent in silence.

The luxurious hovercar stopped at the edge of the landing strip at the very same moment as an expensive atmospheric yacht touched the ground. It was quite a sight to look upon, plated in platinum and titanium. However, that did not matter, what really caught the attention was the sigil of a coiled snake with a grape cluster squeezed between its jaws.

It was the mark of the Fredrik Institute, the most prestigious and renowned medical research group in the entire star cluster. It was one of the stepping stones which had pushed humanity’s progress and conquest of the stars in the last hundred years.

What made the encounter stand out was the fact the Institute had all its facilities and operations restricted to their wide complex situated at the south pole. For everything else, they used a vast number of daughter companies and sub-contractors. Even their patients were flown to their facilities through the use of an outside corporation.

Viin could barely hide her shock when a dozen orcs in alabaster white protective suits exited the craft. It was clear they were a bodyguard detachment from the way they moved, even if their weapons were not seen. After one of them nodded in the direction of the yacht, a hovercar similar to that of her employer and two troop transports were unloaded from the craft’s hanger.

The small convoy made the three-hundred-meter trip to them and stopped next to their lonely car. As if driven by a single thought the orcs stood in perfect lines on both sides of the passenger doors in what could only be summed up as an honour guard.

This was clearly a meeting extremely above her pay grade as a secretary. But Viin managed to keep her cool and unimpressed exterior and stepped next to her employer. She did this so that she could make a last desperate attempt to adjust her own suit. All the while, her heart thundered in her chest and she felt out of breath. There was too much at stake when it came to first impressions at meetings of such magnitude.

With a notable hiss of de-pressurisation, the car’s door opened. An elderly gentleman in a loose pristine white robe looked surprised as he was in the process of dawning an entire glass of wine. A wide grin spread on his chiselled face and with the ease of a dancer he stepped on the landing strip. Not a single grey hair moved as he stood to his full height.

Viin noted that although the man looked in his late fifties or early sixties, he was quite fit. There was a hint of well-kept physique under those robes and in the way his neck tensed as he stretched it. To her dismay, his icy-blue eyes stopped on her for a moment before shifting to the woman on the other side of her employer.

Both Martell and the man strode to each other and embraced in a friendly hug.

“My friend! It's so good to see you!” The elderly gentleman exclaimed as he let go.

“I only wish it was under different circumstances Professor Altstark,” Martell replied in his usual business-like tone.

Viin could only gape like a fool. This was an Altstark. One of the people who had unlocked the races’ genome and brought forth the new age. That family practically build and owned the entire Fredrik Institute. Not even the Emperor could call an Altstark without considerable effort. And now she was standing just a few steps away from one.

“I take it the little bird has sung her song, without waiting for us.” A cold voice came from the car.

A woman with semi-long black hair stepped into view. Her silver dress reflected the light in a rainbow of colours as she moved with grace next to the two men. She possessed a cold beauty commonly depicted in movies, and yet so far out of reach, and Viin could only gulp quietly at seeing her.

Apparently, the sound was not quiet enough as the woman snapped her head in the direction of the elf. There was something unnerving in that action, but the secretary couldn’t pin it down. The woman’s one cold blue eye bore into Viin, while the artificial green cybernetic shifted to a jade hue. It was both an exquisite and frightening enhancement. A delicate fusion of steel and gold covered the entire left eye socket and a portion of the cheekbone below it. Yet it frightened the secretary at a primal level.

“I see you still have that old hag following you Professor,” Cylin spoke with a smug smile, as she leaned in to kiss the old gentleman’s cheeks.

The two women came face to face and one did not need to be a psychokinetic to feel the tension between them. The elf closed her eyes and gathered her resolve. Her top priority was protecting the image and good name of her employer. She forced her foot to lift from the ground when booming laughter came from the older gentleman.

“Come now, my dear child. It’s all in the past.” The man placed his hand around the woman’s waist.

A warning cough came from Martell as he stared at Cylin. Without a word, she stepped away and lowered her head.

“It is nice to see you too Lilly.” He offered her a cordial greeting. “There will be time to settle old arguments.” He looked around. “At a more suitable place.”

“That went better than I expected.” The Professor spoke with a smile. “Let us toast this great reunion!”

He snapped his fingers and one of the orcs produced a silver platter with five glasses filed with, what Viin could only assume an extravagantly expensive liquor. And apparently, one of the glasses was meant for her.

“Till!” The woman called Lilly exclaimed and nudged the old man in the ribs with her elbow.

“You never change old man. And you have the best stuff to drink.” Cylin grabbed a glass without wasting any time.

“I take it you’ve had one too many, Professor,” Martell said and hesitantly took a glass. “You fail to count to four.”

“Ha! You wish!” Till downed one of the glasses and reached for the next. “I can still put you, youngsters, under the table.”

Not so discreetly Lilly slapped his hand away from the platter. Gingerly she took the glass and downed it in a single gulp. She offered Cylin a challenging glare as she placed the empty glass on the platter.

All the while Viin’s head spun. This was all too surreal for her, to see such mighty people behave like, well, like commoners. In the name of the Goddess, right in front of her were standing none other than the head of the Altstark family, his wife, Martell Regis, the head of one of the largest and most powerful corporations in the Dominion, and finally Cylin Regis, or whatever her name was, who was clearly in a position of significant status for Viin’s checks into her past to turn out absolutely nothing. And these same people, who could summon any member of the Imperial family were behaving like this. If she didn’t know any better, the elf could swear they were acting almost like a family, but without the repressed anger and resentment.

“Hm…” Till looked heartbroken at the empty glass, bringing the elf out of her little world. “It is so hard to love her sometimes.” He smiled once more.

“Now, I must say, I am quite interested in who did the work on this lovely creature?” Till spoke as he made his way to Viin.

“It is not bad. Not that good, but it is not bad.” He continued, turning the elf’s head to the side, leaning ever closer with each word. “I could have modified the eyes a bit better. And there is…”

“Professor,” Martell placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “That is my secretary. Ma’Thaar, Till’e”

The man let go of the elf’s chin as if burned and turn to face his friend. There was frustration on his face.

“I never did like that language, Mar.” He shook his head. “And it has been quite some time since you could order me around Second.”

The orcs moved as one ready to attack. They had sensed the hostility in their owner’s voice. Viin could feel her heart slow its beat. She did not dare even breathe. She knew she had to say something, do something, but everything that passed through her mind ended with her in a shallow unmarked grave.

“Interesting.” Lilly came to them and took hold of Till’s arm pulling him away. “Te’Thaari? How much does she know?”

That green artificial eye snaked a glance at the secretary and she smiled. It was a disturbing smile. The elf had no actual idea what was happening and she felt like a fish surrounded by wild cats. She had managed to accept that her employer and his ex-wife spoke some strange language, or perhaps a secret code-speak. But now… Now she was worried she had made the wrong choice with her work application.

“Enough for you to lose interest in her,” Martell answered in a cold voice, his face becoming stern.

“Oh please, my dear,” Cylin hugged him from behind. “You need to learn to relax. You always had a problem of letting go of the past. Keep up with the times.”

“Nasda te’Thaari kalata oos.” Lilly nearly sang the phrase.

It was followed by warm laughter from all but Martell. Instead, he closed his eyes to calm down. The conversation after that was conducted in that strange language. It forced too many questions in the elf’s mind to keep track. Several times she could hear her name, but she was not sure she wanted to know why it was used.

Viin was a nobody. A modified elf, three years out of training school. She had considered herself lucky to land a job as a secretary at GS Security. She actually went to the temples to make an offering to the Goddess for blessing her with such fortune when she was promoted as the personal secretary of the enigmatic Martell Regis.

It was a dream job, even if she had to do some questionable things. All she had to do was make his memos, write the occasional congratulatory letter or speech. Filter his documents and personal business communication. Make the occasional under the table payment, send out the rare veiled threat to some influential figure, and if things got strange – call the two augmented guards stationed next to her office and go for lunch.

It was obvious there were things like this that were not included in the official job requirements. Considering who her boss was, she was surprised she was not knee-deep in dead bodies. Or sending hit squads after overenthusiastic paparazzo. And at this moment, all those carefree days were gone. She expected something like this, but deep down she hoped the transition would have been gradual.

However, there was no changing the present, instead, Viin used the time to signal every asset at her disposal to scour the area around the port and along their route. If a photo of this meeting or, Goddess forbid, a video recording, made its way to the tabloids, a shallow grave would be the best she could hope for. Thanks to her position, the elf had learned that sometimes, there were fates worse than death. For the hundredth time this night, she sighed internally, cursing that she was present.

After a couple of minutes, the conversation was over and all four humans were looking at her. She felt small and vulnerable. In reality, she was a bit taller than Martell, but at that moment she felt as if she was a small child.

“Viin, I said we are ready to go,” Martell stressed her name.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She hurried to tap the order to the hovercar. “Please excuse my tardiness, sir. And my apologies Her Altstark.”

“You are too harsh on the poor creature, Mar.” Till Altstark laughed. “Look at her, she is shaking like a leaf. So that is why you greeted me so formally.”

“Come now, Till. Let her be. There will be time to have a proper conversation with her.” Lilly pulled at his arm and nearly dragged him towards their car.

“If you behave, I might consider convincing her to come over for an examination.” She added as she pushed him into the vehicle.

The elf felt as if she had barely escaped a deadly trap just to land on a mine. On the other hand, she was willing to cry of joy at the prospect of an Altstark examining her. Perhaps the Professor could fix some of the mistakes her previous surgeon had made. But she had to be professional, it was, after all, her vanity which demand it, and for some reason, if she agreed it felt like she was going to be selling her soul. Viin stood still as both her employer and his ex-wife got in the car, before climbing inside the darkened interior.