Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1) (38 page)

Merlo blinked. “Um, she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t think.” Branwen glanced at her with an arched brow and Merlo folded her arms defensively, scoffing. “Besides, what’s 286 gonna do, fly off in the
Destiny
?”

“If I truly thought that, she would not still be upon my ship. But I would also rather she be watched, to be honest.”

Her youthful pilot shook her head. “I don’t see why, Captain. You know she’s got that collar on and everything. She’s not going to try anything like that.”

Branwen grunted, almost chuckling. It wasn’t often Merlo seemed that young or naive. “If you think something like that will stop someone like her from finding a way to do as she pleases, you are unfortunately mistaken. She finds new ways to push her limits every time I see her, even within the confines of the
Destiny
.”

Merlo seemed to spend a few moments considering that. Meanwhile, they squeezed uncomfortably into a large metal cargo elevator, one of many set into shafts sliced into the core of the rocky structure. Along with Merlo, Branwen was one of the few non-Urzrans packing its interior, and as such received more than her fair share of suspicious glances.

She had no way to know if they perhaps suspected her as being from Fade, or if they treated all outsiders with similar distrust. Branwen reflected on how her height once again exacerbated the problem; being just above six feet tall, she stood out from the native populace, who seemed to average around five and a half. And that was just the males, with their broad shoulders and sturdy, stocky frames. The few female Urzrans she’d seen so far were even shorter, with a similarly strong skeletal structure, though less thickly built overall.

She hoped silently to herself that, like in many places she had been to, denizens of Urzra didn’t precisely know what “Fade people” looked like. As hostile as she had heard that they were to those from her homeworld, she definitely didn’t want their purpose here to be interrupted by someone picking a fight with her. Having to kill someone on Urzra would get them nowhere quick.

She was glad when the elevator finally trundled to a stop and set them free. Being shut in tight confines of stone and metal like that, especially moving of its own accord as it did, may have been part of a normal day to the Urzrans, but it was barely tolerable to Branwen. There was little to no recognizable public transportation as one would see on Altairan worlds. Instead, they had to flag down transport; most of the ground level transportation seemed to consist of private wheeled vehicles with a few antigrav shuttles.

That is, Merlo had to step forward and flag one down. Branwen had mostly been ignored in her own attempts; but as soon as her pilot stepped forward and flailed her arms energetically at one of the small black vehicles, it cruised smoothly and quickly to a stop. Branwen reflected that Merlo was of a size with some of the Urzran women she’d seen, just more petite by comparison, and rather pretty, at least by Branwen’s standards. And possibly Urzran standards as well. She grinned to herself as their driver took down their location on his datapad, then proceeded to attempt to strike up a conversation with Merlo the entire rest of the way to their destination.

Like everything else, traffic didn’t seem to flow as smoothly or quickly as it did on Altair, but they still arrived in due time. Branwen even let herself relax and stare out the window during the transit, watching as they passed dark side streets, squat stone buildings and towering, light-rimmed stalagmites alike. There was little point in obsessing over what might come.
Once the path is set, there is no room for doubt
.

14.4
- Branwen

Once they finally gained admittance to Governor Forona Medlava’s office, they were late. Not due to any dallying on their part, as they had now been waiting over an hour, but due to unspecified delays on her end. Merlo had grown anxious, and even whispered to Branwen, “Maybe she’s trying to stall us.” But Branwen knew better; if the Governor were trying to hide something, she had better ways to deal with people than simply making them wait outside and hoping they gave up and went away. Chances were that Governor Medlava was simply very busy, and that she had nothing to do with their investigation at all. Probably.

The government offices in question were etched into the exterior of a towering mountain of a stalagmite, manifesting as a carved pyramid of Urzran bureaucracy and piercing the “sky” at the heart of Kharvid. Her datapad told her that it was now nighttime, though there was very little difference that she could tell. Branwen was simply relieved that this particular building, unlike many Urzran ones, had windows.

“Miss Medlava will see you now,” a younger Urzran woman told them in a falsely cheerful tone, holding the heavy wooden door for them. Branwen stepped past her, into a nicely appointed, if still somewhat utilitarian, office suite. Thick paintings covered the stone of the walls and elaborate woven rugs adorned the floor. The door clicked shut behind them, and Brawnen surveyed their host with a critical eye.

Forona Medlava was tall for an Urzran woman, which is to say she was a few inches taller than Merlo but still relatively dwarfed by Branwen. She wore an expensive suit and a little light makeup, that accented her features nicely, though Branwen felt she would have looked perfectly fine without it. She had a clear complexion, with a typical prominent bone structure common to Urzran women, but a lot of definition in her features, despite her being of middling age. Currently, her face was somewhat pinched and her eyes harried around the edges, and she looked up at their arrival with a subdued sense of exasperation.

“May I help you?” Her voice was hard, if not exactly unfriendly. “To be honest, I don’t even know what you people are here for, or how you got this appointment. I happen to be a very, very busy woman.”

Branwen stepped forward, clasping her arms behind her back. If she’d had any doubts as to why this woman would feel safe agreeing to see two unknown outsiders at night while running for re-election, it was put to rest by the twin steel turrets on either side of the room which watched them like deadly, robotic hawks. “I believe I can answer that for you, Governor Medlava. My companion and I are here on behalf of the Kalaset.”

She watched the Urzran politician for any signs in her face that might give away surprise or worry, but instead found only a critical sense of doubt as her dark eyebrows slowly rose. “Neither of you look like anyone from the Kalaset that I’ve ever seen before. No offense intended.”

“I understand, but I can also provide proof.” Branwen gestured to Merlo, who stepped forward and offered her datapad to a doubtful looking Medlava. The woman smoothed her dark hair back as she scanned the information on the pad, which contained a concession Branwen had worked from Sirrah when the Kala had informed her of her inability to come with them. The digital seal encoded onto the datapad would ensure anyone of the bearer’s affiliation with the Kalaset, even if, strictly speaking, it wasn’t supposed to ever be loaned out.

“I see that there is truth to what you say,” the Governor said, sliding the glowing pad back across the solid wood of her desk to Merlo, who took it and tucked it neatly away inside her bodysuit. Forona's eyebrows descended once again, as her expression sharpened from doubt to the shrewd curiosity that Branwen would expect of a career politician. “Which means that there is something of import to be discussed here, I imagine?”

Hopefully she wouldn’t be disappointed that it didn’t pertain to her election campaign. “You would be correct, Miss Medlava. The issue at hand has to do with Kala Tiala, whom I believe you know.” Branwen watched her expressions again, but was rewarded with nothing except a veiled, mild flutter of confusion and hesitance. If Governor Medlava was hiding something nefarious, she was good at hiding it. Which, for a politician, was definitely possible.

The Governor smoothed the lower part of her shirt and settled back into the plush chair nestled behind her desk. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Miss…” She glanced at a data panel inset into the surface of her heavy desk. “Hawke. Kala Tiala…” She hesitated. Branwen felt Merlo shift behind her. “I’m afraid I need to know more of why you’re here before I say anything that might infringe on any confidentiality arrangements the Kalaset and I might or might not have.”

“Of course.” Branwen stepped smoothly forward and lowered her voice as she spoke, acutely aware from her peripheral vision of the lethal alloy turrets tirelessly flanking her. “It has to do with the Kala’s recent disappearance.”

Governor Medlava flinched. If the older woman had been expecting anything, Branwen didn’t believe it was this. “What? How… do you mean, that something has happened to Tiala?” The familiar way she said Kala Tiala’s name while attempting to put the pieces of her shattered composure back together told Branwen that she was either shocked, or the best actress she’d ever seen. And also, that she knew Tiala and seemed to care for her, if the concern tightening the corners of her dark, red-rimmed eyes was any indication. “How could that be? I just saw her… three or four weeks ago.”

“That is something we were hoping you could help us with.” Sirrah had requested that Branwen not reveal any of the issues the Kalaset had encountered in communication or in locating Tiala if she could help it. “When Kala Tiala visited you, it was one of the last times anyone saw her. Anything you know about where she was going, what she intended, precisely when she was here, or what might have happened to her would be very helpful right now.”

She didn’t know if what she said infringed on Kala Sirrah’s request, but her gut instinct was to go with it. There was only so much restriction she could abide by and still unearth any answers. Besides, from the fallen expression on Medlava’s face, she wasn’t deeply analyzing Branwen’s statements at the moment. “Of course,” She said after a moment, clutching a hand in her lap and meeting Branwen’s eyes. “Anything I can do to help Tiala, and the Kalaset, I would be happy to do.”

“Kala Tiala came to see me as part of a tour she was doing of her oldest and closest clients before her impending retirement, or so she had told me.” Forona knitted her hands together and set them on her desk as she continued, letting out a heavy breath and restoring a measure of her composure. “Unfortunately, I, of course, do not know who else she might have been intending to visit—at least not for sure.”

“Kalaset confidentiality. I understand.” Branwen nodded as if she was completely familiar with what she was talking about. “Do you know of a Jori Stone or Oran Yustari? We believe she may have been intending to visit them while she was here, as well.”

Governor Medlava’s face crinkled a little bit at the first name, and more at the second. “Yes, I know them. I’m actually surprised that Tiala would visit either of them.”

“Why so, Governor?”

Medlava eyed her for a moment, and Branwen kept her expressions as calm and flat as she could. “Well, Jori Stone may not be so bad, but off the record, there’s something about him that has always bothered me. Oran, however, is a pig, and you can tell him that for all I care.” The Governor leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “But if Tiala were last seen here, Oran Yustari lives in Odesa. That’s two cities away by undertrain. Unless he had something to do with it, he probably doesn't know anything helpful.” Governor Medlava raised a curious eyebrow towards Branwen, as if asking her opinion on it.

“I am afraid I do not yet know enough to comment on what may have happened,” Branwen said, as diplomatically as she could. She felt rusty at it, and halfway wished she could have remained so. “But rest assured, we will find Kala Tiala.” She meant it, and Medlava appeared to pick up on that fact, the severe, middle aged politician nodding firmly and fiercely at her.

“If there is anything else you think of, or if we need some sort of assistance you might could grant, may we stay in contact?” It was worth a shot; Branwen felt it likely that they might end up needing the help before this was all over.

“Of course.” Her response was immediate, and she flicked information from her desk to Branwen’s datapad. Branwen barely managed to keep from starting as it suddenly vibrated inside her hip pouch of its own accord when the data arrived.

“Thank you, Governor Medlava. We will be in touch as we discover more, then. And thank you. We won’t take up any more of your valuable time.” Medlava nodded, thanked them in return, and they left without further preamble.

Once safely out of the building, Merlo finally spoke up again, albeit in hushed tones. “So, what? Do you think she had anything to do with it? She sure didn’t tell us much.”

Branwen was already shaking her head in response to the expected question. “No. I would wager much that she had nothing to do with this.”
And I am
, she added mentally, but kept it to herself. “We know much more now than we did when we started out.”

“What about those other guys, huh? Especially that Oran guy. She didn’t seem to think much of them.”

Branwen nodded, though she knew that Governor Medlava’s opinion wouldn’t count for much, not until they knew more. “We will soon find out. Our next appointment is with Jori Stone.”

14.5
- Merlo

Merlo accompanied Branwen to their meeting with Jori Stone, an appointment located on the opposite side of Kharvid. As they travelled the length of the large city together, Merlo was surprised by how much Branwen seemed in awe of the scenery, and of how thoroughly she personally hated it. She knew that a place like Kharvid was unlike anything she’d ever seen before, and she should probably view it as an adventure, but somehow the city just unsettled her instead.