Ever since his arrival on Xovu, he had spent his time meeting with people—in restaurants, in luxurious suites, in villas, in parks...

It was important—vital, even—that he started planting seeds before his first hearing. These people needed to know him if they were to take him seriously. Being a stranger to them on his first day would do him no good.

This was the last step before Zax could move to Assalin, which made it all the more vital he played his cards right.

Each time, he would do some digging. He needed to know the people he met. Were they honest? Were they corrupt? Were they in financial trouble? What were their pet peeves? Did they have a family? How far would they go to keep their loved ones safe? Could they become a liability?

It was, in part, a guessing game that he enjoyed playing.

As Zax prepared for a new meeting, he stepped into his bedroom to change. His eyes drifted to the bed. He smiled as he remembered his last moments with Agna.

They had lain on a different bed together. He on his back, staring at the ceiling; she on her side, head propped in one hand, while the other rubbed his bare chest as she watched him.

“Will I ever see you again?” she had asked.

“No,” he’d answered distractedly.

“Damn, you’re cold!”

He had shrugged. “I prefer to call it honesty.”

“You? Honest?” Her laughter had rung sweetly in his ears.

He had twisted his neck to look at her with a quirked brow. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“I’m not the center of the universe, dear.”

“Ah.” He had looked back to the ceiling. “Well, I was only referring to this moment. Obviously.”

She had snorted.

“What game are you playing, I wonder?”

“How do you mean?”

“We both know you are an ambitious man. I just wonder how high you think you can go?”

He had offered her his sweetest smile.

“How high do I think I can go?”

She’d hit his chest. “You’re impossible!”

Zax chuckled and moved back to the living room.

He’d go all the way up, of course.

Only he knew how to really help the people. He had to succeed. If not, things would go very, very badly.

He took his holofiles, stored them in his wristpad, and walked out of his suite.

Today, he was meeting with senator Lekili Abbadar. According to his research, the woman was one of the most powerful players in the senate. If he could win her to his cause, it would be a huge step forward that could save him months of work.

They met in an expensive restaurant in the heart of Ussan, just across the street from the Regency. He glanced at the building and shook his head before stepping into the establishment.

Lekili was already there, waiting for him. He had hoped to arrive first—one point for her.

She stood to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, senator Iden.”

He smiled. “Please, you can call me Zax.”

She quirked a brow. “Very blunt, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “An old habit. I meant no offense.”

She smiled. “I was teasing you. Please, have a seat.” He did so as she sat back down. “I was very surprised by your invitation, I must admit.”

“Do new senators never reach out to you?”

“Oh, they do.” She had a pensive look as she went through the floating menu. “But only after they’ve run into a major setback.” She glanced at him. “I’m not sure what you expect to accomplish today... Zax.”

She went back to the menu and picked a couple of entries. The text faded instantly.

“Only to have a good meal in good company, I assure you.”

Lekili smiled. “How disappointing.”

Zax took his time going through the menu. It was a new world, with many dishes unfamiliar to him. More importantly, it gave him time to think. He could sense this woman would be a challenge to win over. He’d have to pick his words carefully.

As soon as he’d made his picks, the menu disappeared and two fuming plates materialized in front of them, along with two glasses of zestri.

“How are you liking Xovu so far?” she asked before putting a forkful of food into her mouth.

“It’s delicious.”

She held back her laughter. Swallowed and wiped her mouth.

“I’d never heard it described like that.”

“It feels like Assalin, but on a smaller scale.”

“In many ways, it is,” she agreed. “There is power here. We are only second to the capital of the Imperium. But you already knew that. I wager that’s why you came here to begin with.”

“I didn’t choose Xovu,” he said. “I was assigned here.”

“Oh please, we both know how the game is played. You did what you needed to do to get this job. You’re ambitious. I can respect that.” She leaned back in her chair, looking at him. “We all need to have ambition in this line of work if we want to survive. Well, ambition and common sense.”

He put his fork down and smiled at her. “And now you’re wondering whether I have common sense or not.”

“Oh, I think you have a lot more of it than most others who have come before you.”

“How do you figure?”

She smiled sweetly at him. “You invited me for dinner at my favorite restaurant.”

Damn. The woman was good. He thought he would be playing her, but she was playing him. With each move, she was one step ahead of the game.

He picked up his fork and put some food into his mouth. Chewed on it for a moment. Swallowed.

“Some might argue it’s a bold move, maybe even foolish.”

“Oh, it’s bold alright! But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Tell me something, Zax, what made you want to go into politics?”

It was a rather mundane question, one he’d often been asked, though he suspected there was more to it coming from this woman.

He took a sip from his glass before answering, as if he was looking for the right words. In reality, he had repeated this so many times, he knew the lines by heart.

“When I was a child,” he started slowly, “I was a frail little thing. It’s not that I wasn’t well fed—I was—it simply was my constitution. As you can imagine, I was bullied a lot. I didn’t like that. Nobody does, I suppose. Still, it hardened me. Strengthened my resolve. When I was twelve, my father took me to a union meeting. He worked in a factory. They went on strike because their wages were so ridiculous... nowhere near proportional to the amount of work they did, let alone the risks they took on a daily basis. Something I never was aware of until one day my father came back with three missing fingers. Because of the injury, he no longer could operate the machines, so he was fired. They gave him a small pension, half of what he had made as an employee. No compensation whatsoever for the accident—”

“He didn’t sue?”

“Lawyers cost money. We couldn’t afford one. He tried to get another job, but everyone turned him down. No one wanted a cripple. So he put an end to his life.”

Lekili stared at him. “That was a very selfish thing for him to do.”

Zax tried not to show his surprise. He had not expected such a response. Usually people he told the story to were horrified or touched, or both. They would sympathize, offer condolences...

This woman was something else.

He leaned back in his chair. “I can see why you might think that. But as a child, I could not see things like this.”

“Of course not. I take it the experience prompted some righteous anger toward the system. And now you want to make the world a better place.”

Zax nodded. “Something like that.”

The woman sighed. “How disappointing.”

He quirked a brow. “You are easily disappointed.” She smiled. “But I’m curious to know why my story would disappoint you.”

“There are two types of politicians, Zax... Barring, that is, the greedy ones who only seek wealth.” She made a dismissive gesture. “You are not that, I know your history. Barring that, there are only two types: those who have vision and those who go on a crusade. I just hadn’t pegged you for the latter.”

He squinted at her. “Oh, but my dear, dear Lekili, you have me pegged all wrong. I am not on a crusade. I don’t want to save the people, I want to change the world they live in. That, my friend, is vision.”

The woman smiled.

One point for me, he thought as they lifted their glasses for a toast.