Night fell across Quen’s eastern hemisphere and the streets of the Fortress Imperial once more sank into a phosphorous-lit gloom. Within the Soaring Embrace, Empress Harke attended to the final item on the day’s agenda. Nightfall was no time to be conducting statecraft, and she longed to retire to her royal bower, but the missive she had received claimed the matter was of utmost importance. It had better be, she thought resentfully.
“Our underworld contacts report that the Fortitude is bound for Aglostarros. Even at a cautious pace, it will likely arrive within the day,” her aide reported dispassionately. Harke knew she could rely on him to be concise..
“So the Conglomerate gets its missing ship back, and the terrorists, to boot,” the Empress surmised. “How does this concern us?”
She saw the aide take a short breath in before responding. He did this every time he was preparing to deliver bad news, she had noticed. “The people consider Kollian an embarrassment, your majesty. They do not wish this failure to be compounded by a decision to give up entirely. They would have us take - er, retake - the Fortitude as a bargaining chip.”
Harke sat back in her throne, considering. She could easily say no; such was her royal prerogative. But her subjects were right: Kollian stung more than she’d expected.
“Send General Quril, and tell him it must be quick,” she hissed with sudden urgency. “We must drive a dagger towards Aglostarros and withdraw with the Fortitude in hand.”
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