Chapter Three

Katanes, Tannen City

"Well, that," Karani said, tossing her hair, "was a complete waste of everyone's time."

Arta shot her foster-sister a disapproving look as they left the Tannen Guild Hall, walking a few steps behind their father. The Baron had been meeting with the representatives of the Agriculture, Shipping, and Spacing Guilds on the subjects of the recent surge of piracy that had been troubling Katanes and other outlying planets, and he'd wanted his daughters present to watch the proceedings. So far as Arta could tell, it had mostly consisted of the guild representatives reprimanding her father for his failure to protect their investments from the pirates, and he in return promising to set more of the militia forces to the task of ensuring their safety. The remainder of the meeting had involved arguing over the precise logistics and feasibility of arranging increased protection, and from what she'd seen, nobody had come to any satisfactory agreement by the time they were through. Now Varas and his family were leaving the hall and returning to the landing pad where Danash was waiting with their flitter to take them back to the palace.

The guild hall was located in an open park near the center of Tannen, along with several other governmental and religious buildings; the landing platform was at the other end. Around them rose the tall towers of the city proper; though they lacked the delicate grace of the palace, Arta nonetheless thought that there was a certain grandeur to them, and she craned her neck to look upwards at the buildings as they passed them by. Though the baron's family was surrounded by a small group of guards in plain, neat clothing, they made no effort to conceal themselves or to keep themselves entirely apart from the people. Varas had always held to the belief that a leader should be seen by their people and not spend all their time holed up in a palace or private fortress, and he'd drummed that belief into his daughters at an early age.

"So, tell me," the Baron suddenly said in a conversational tone, "what did the two of you learn today?"

"That the guildmasters are annoying and spend all of their time complaining," Karani replied promptly. "Seriously, do those people ever shut up? And you're the Baron – who do they think they are, trying to tell you how to do your job, anyway?"

"Really?" Varas asked, a small smile creasing his lips. "And Arta, do you agree with your sister's assessment?"

Arta glanced at Karani, swallowed once, and then spoke. "I don't think so," she said. "You are the Baron, but that doesn't mean you can just rule however you like. The guilds have a lot of power too, because they're in charge of making and selling things – without them, the economy would fall apart, and they know it. That means that a good Baron has to take time to listen to their concerns and deal with their problems, or else they could cause a lot of problems. Even if they are annoying and never shut up." She shot a sideways glance at Karani, who smirked. "But being annoying doesn't mean they're not right. I mean, pirates are everyone's problem, aren't they?"

"Well put," the Baron said. "We nobles like to say we rule by the Lord's grace, but the truth is, any leader depends to a greater or lesser extent on those under them, and if you can't show that you can do what your people need you to, then you have no business leading anything – even if it can get a little tedious sometimes. Do you understand?"

Arta nodded; Karani frowned, chewing her lip as she digested this information, and then joined her.

"Now, then," said the Baron, "there are a few of the finer points of what you saw in that meeting today that I'd like to go over with you on the flitter back home –"

Before he could finish speaking, one of the guards suddenly started, then seized his lord by the shoulder. "Get down, my lord!" he shouted. Arta was about to ask what was going on when one of the other guards seized her and shoved her down as well – as was also happening to Karani, judging from the muffled cursing coming from beside her. Then suddenly on the path in front of them there was a flash of light and sound as a blast from a beam rifle struck the path just where they were about to have stepped, blasting it apart and leaving a scorched scar behind.

Arta could hear the screams of the park's pedestrians as they ran for cover, but almost before she could process what was happening the guards had her back on her feet and one of them shouted "Move!" into her ear. She found herself being hurried behind one of the trees that dotted the park – one tall and thick enough that it could even block a shot from a beam rifle. Arta was pressed up against it, and beside her she saw Karani and their father in the same position. The guards took up their places along the side of the tree, beam pistols drawn and at the ready as the scanned the area for the attackers.

"What's going on?" Karani demanded, eyes wide. "Is someone trying to kill us? Is it the pirates?" The expression on her foster-sister's face matched the one Arta was sure must be on her own. They'd both been trained extensively in hand-to-hand combat – by tradition, all nobles were – but this, hiding from enemies they couldn't even see, enemies armed with weapons that could kill them in an instant if they hit their target, was something entirely new.

"I don't know," said the Baron, expression grim. "But if we get through this, I will find out. No one threatens my family and walks away." His tone of voice was harsher than any Arta had ever heard him use and coming from her stern but caring foster-father it was alarming – and yet, at the same time, almost comforting; she knew he meant every word. Before she could process that thought, however, all three nobles ducked as another blast shot past the tree, scorching a furrow in the pale blue grass. One of the guards took careful aim along the path of the shot and fired back with her beam pistol; Arta couldn't tell if she hit anything.

"It looks like there are at least two of them in nearby buildings, my lord," the guard commander said, leaning back against the tree with his weapon at the ready. "Maybe more. I sent an alert on my comm to the city administration as soon as we got you to safety, and pretty soon this place will be swarming with police – they won't get away. Stupid of them to try something so close to the city center."

"Yes," the Baron said slowly. "Stupid of them…" his voice trailed off, and Arta felt an itch in the back of her mind. Were their attackers really that foolish, or arrogant, if the commander was right? Or was something else going on here? Arta's mind spun, and she suddenly desperately wished she had a dueling sword in her hands; the weapons were designed to be able to absorb and redirect energy from beam weapons, making them practical even on modern battlefields. It would make Arta feel safer to have one on her, at least. But none of them except for the guards had brought weapons; there was no need to go armed to a simple guild meeting.

Another blast scorched the ground nearby; Arta and Karani both ducked their heads again, and Arta could hear her sister cursing loudly as she did so. Then, something caught the corner of her eye – a glint of light in another tree nearby. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was seeing – another sniper, hidden in the branches – and then the concealed figure raised a beam rifle and fired a shot, directly at Karani.

"No!" Arta shouted, shoving her foster-sister out of the way; Karani hit the ground and rolled, grass and dirt staining the fine cloth of her formal tunic. The energy bolt flashed through the air, and Arta, scarcely able to think, raised a hand as if to ward it off, knowing it was no use – and then the bolt struck, and there was tingle in her palm like an electric shock, and the bolt deflected from where it struck and scorched another furrow into the grass. No sooner had it done so than one of the guards returned fire, and the sniper cried out and fell from the tree in a heap.

Arta held up her hand in bewilderment, staring at her hand; the palm was smoldering where the bolt had struck, but there wasn't any sign of an injury. Slowly she turned the hand over and examined it carefully, but she could see no sign that the bolt had struck, no wound of any kind. Just a faint wisp of smoke, and that strange tingling.

"What just happened?" Karani asked blearily from where she lay on the ground, and Arta could only shake her head mutely, since she was wondering the exact same thing.

Suddenly the sound of sirens filled the air, accompanied by the flashing of lights as police flitters, decorated with the Katanes crest, descended on the park and began disgorging their armored occupants. Arta could see flashes of light in the buildings where the shooters must have been holed up as the police moved in, but no more fire reached the park. Glancing over at her foster-father, she saw him smiling tightly, knowing that the attackers wouldn't escape. Even now, several armored officers were approaching the sniper who'd fallen from the tree; apparently he was still alive, as Arta saw them haul him to his feet and put bindings on his wrists.

And then she looked past them towards the buildings of the city proper, and for a moment her blood froze; for an instant, she thought she saw a figure, shrouded in black robes, watching from a distant window. But surely it was too far away for her to make out anything clearly, and when she shook her head and looked back, the figure was gone.

/

"What the hells happened today?" the Baron demanded, pacing back and forth in his study. "My daughters could have died today; I want to know what is going on."

"We're trying to figure that out," Danash said, scrolling through the information on the tablet that he held in one hand. "There were three assassins, two of whom were taken alive. Law enforcement has investigated their backgrounds and identities, and we've determined that they're mercenaries with ties to various illicit groups, but no known ideological positions or significant ambitions. Most likely, the hit was placed on you by someone else."

"But who?" Varas muttered, stroking his short beard. "Pirates? Surely not; if this attempt was linked to them conclusively, it would only make the nobility crack down harder, doubly so if they'd actually succeeded. Another noble house? I can't think of anyone I've offended badly enough they'd want me dead, and Katanes isn't so desirable a holding that someone would be readily willing to kill for it and risk war if they were found out. The guildmasters? Doesn't seem their style; even if one of them thought they'd somehow profit from me being out of the way, I doubt they'd have the guts to go through with it. The guilds have clout, but not enough that they'd feel comfortable killing barons, at least not this brazenly." He didn't mention the thought that this might have to do with his foster-daughter – could someone have dug into her past and suspected that she might be a prize worth killing for? He doubted it, and the possibilities it raised… well, best not to think of those for now, at least until all other explanations were exhausted.

"The curious thing," Danash said, a baffled look crossing his face, "is that the prisoners were questioned concerning this job and who hired them for it, but apparently they couldn't answer."

"Couldn't? I thought you said these people were mercenaries – are they really that loyal?"

"I didn't say wouldn't," Danash corrected, "I said couldn't. They remembered being contacted remotely several weeks ago, and then meeting their employer in person last night to receive final instructions – but none of them was capable of describing the employer's appearance or anything about them. Per the report from the officer who oversaw the questioning, the assassins appeared as confused by this fact as their interrogators were. Their reactions, words, and the activity of their vital signs were all analyzed, and while such things can be fooled, the police captain thinks they were telling the truth. They really can't remember."

Varas paused for a moment, considering this, but shook his head. It touched on things that he was no expert in – very few people outside of the Church were. "Tell them to continue the investigation, and keep me updated on the results," he said. "Even if our mysterious employer concealed themselves so well, they must have left some sort of trail. Was there anything else suspicious over the last few days you've heard of?"

"Well," Danash said slowly, "I did see a report that a small ship docked last night, after transmitting a code reserved for special agents of the regent. The sort that one is supposed to pretend not to see. No word on what they're up to; it's probably classified."

"Hmm," Varas said slowly. "Don't antagonize that ship – if it's legitimate, I don't want Duke Mardoban thinking of me as an enemy – but draft a message to let him know what happened here and ask if he can confirm if he had an agent on planet. If he didn't, we might have our lead."

Danash bowed at the waist. "Of course," he said. When he rose, his posture relaxed slightly and his face softened; he was speaking now as a friend, not an aid. "And the girls?" he asked quietly. "How are they holding up?"

"They'll be all right," Varas said.

/

"I said, I'm fine," Karani snapped, swatting away the medical mech with one hand. She and Arta had been sitting in the palace infirmary for what felt like hours; after the flitter ride back home, they and their father had been hurried down here to be looked over, and once everyone was satisfied he hadn't sustained any injuries, the Baron had been hustled off by Danash to go over the investigation of the assassins. His daughters had been left in the infirmary to be tended by the mechs.

"Just let them finish," Arta said, sighing. "They're mechs; they're not smart enough to take a hint. They'll leave you alone when they're satisfied you aren't hurt."

"Easy for you to say; they're all done with you," Karani muttered. No sooner had she finished speaking, however, than the mechs left her and glided back to their alcoves along the walls, having apparently determined that the baron's heir was unharmed. Karani sighed happily and leaned back on the table, hands behind her head.

"I wish I knew what was going on up there," she said. "We're almost adults – we could be helping! Father drags us along to boring meetings, and then when something actually interesting happens, he decides to keep us in the dark. How's that fair?

Arta shrugged. "They're probably just worried we'll get in the way," she said, though in truth, that wasn't what was really on her mind. She held her hands in her lap, turning them over and over again and regarding them as intently as possible without giving away to Karani what she was doing, but it was no use. They looked exactly like they always had, and there was no physical sign of what had happened earlier today. She almost thought she'd imagined it – but the memory of that odd tingling feeling was still strong. Surely, she hadn't imagined that?

She looked up to see Karani staring at her. "What happened earlier, anyway?" her foster-sister asked. "I didn't see a whole lot when you knocked me down, there, but I could've sworn I saw you trying to block and energy beam with your hand. Good thing it didn't hit; could've gotten your hand blown off instead of some bruises and grass stains." She glanced down at her tunic and scowled. "Not that that isn't annoying enough."

In spite of herself, Arta smiled. At least Karani was still herself, and it didn't seem like she'd seen enough to be confused by what happened. "The shadier side of being noble – when they say you have to get down in the dirt to survive, they don't say they mean it literally."

Karani laughed, then hopped down from the table and wrapped her foster-sister in a tight hug. "Well, whoever they were, they should have known better than to try and mess with us," she said lightly. "Because in House ast Katanes, we watch out for each other, and we're not afraid to get messy. Which isn't to say we like it. But still, we'll be fine."

"We will," Arta said, pausing to brush a stray lock of dark hair from her face before returning her sister's embrace.

They were interrupted as the infirmary door slid open and Danash stepped in. "Are you two all right?" their father's oldest advisor and confidante asked. "Good," he added when they both nodded. "The assassins have been interrogated, and we're working on tracking down whoever hired them and figuring out what they were after. The palace is secure, and if you're both feeling fine, your father said you should both return to your rooms. It's getting late."

Karani looked as if she was about to protest, but before she could start was undermined by the prodigious yawn that erupted from her throat. "Maybe you're right," she finally said. "I guess we've had enough excitement for today."

Her sister's yawn made Arta realize just how tired she was feeling as well; both girls nodded respectfully to Danash as they passed him and left the infirmary, taking a nearby lift up several levels to the palace's residential floor, where they quickly made their way to their rooms. Close by, Arta saw their father's door was open, but his bedroom was empty – the Baron, it seemed, still had work to do. It sometimes seemed to Arta that their father almost never slept – but then again, maybe that wasn't a criticism someone who got out of bed on a regular basis to practice her swordsmanship in the middle of the night could comfortably make.

Before they went into their rooms, Karani stopped to put her arms around Arta's shoulders. "You sure you're okay, little sister?" she asked; Arta nodded. "Well, if you need anything, I'll be there."

"I know," Arta said softly. "Love you, big sister."

Karani smiled and walked into her room, the door shutting smoothly behind her; Arta turned and did the same. Letting out a heavy sigh, she walked over to her bed and sat down heavily onto it, before casually waving a hand to activate the lamp that stood beside it. The light flared brightly – and Arta started at what it revealed.

Directly across from Arta's bed, facing the door, there stood a shelf with several books on it, a small stand that held her dueling sword, and a comfortable chair – and the chair was occupied. A figure dressed all in black, with a hood pulled low to conceal its face, was seated there, legs crossed casually and slender, pale hands resting on the chair's arms. Arta gave a sudden gasp and pulled herself tight against her bed's headrest, desperately wishing her sword was closer. She drew in a breath to scream.

The cloaked figure waved a hand dismissively. "Don't bother," it said in a smooth, cultured, undeniably feminine voice. "I've set up a field in this room to deaden sound – no one outside is going to hear you. And besides, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just here to talk."

Arta finally found her voice. "Who are you?" she asked.

"My name isn't important," the woman said. "Let's just I'm more interested in a much more curious topic. That, Miss Arta ast Katanes, is you."