Rigel 2

[Wil Savage]

Wil Savage read the note that was from Azjah which he received from Baumann in the library.

"My dearest Wil,

I have gone on ahead, and eagerly await your arrival.

Baumann will set you on the path, but I ask you to savor the journey.

All of my love, I shall see you at the end of the path.

ATD"

He refolded the paper and slipped it into his pants pocket, and from the moment he saw the trail of candlelight, he knew this would be a night that he would remember until the day he died.

Wil walked beneath the magnolias in the still and fragrant night air, and gazed upon the Rigelian constellations in a sky that was remarkably dark for a technologically advanced planet. The sounds of the insect and night hunters assuaged any concerns that there might be others prowling where they shouldn’t be. He followed the golden flicker of candles beneath the canapé of pine boughs, and journeyed further into the increasingly dense forest until he saw the unexpected color of salmon. He picked up the silken scarf and felt its cool caress, and the new scents around announced that he was drawing close to the woman he loved. He stood a moment on the pathway lost in his own thoughts. Then it wrapped itself gently around his arm as he moved forward once more into the beckoning dark.

Wil looked ahead and saw the more intense glow of a grouping of candles calling him into their glow. Beyond that was the folly. The structure in such a small clearing surprised him, but he smiled and moved forward through the pillars.

The view that was before him took his breath away. Azjah stood motionless in the center with the salmon silk clinging to her, accenting her womanly form. She smiled and said, “You are here at last.”

Wil’s eyes quickly took in the surroundings, the pillows and the cognac that was waiting. His blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he moved slowly forward, his gaze now locked upon Azjah’s eyes. That bad boy smile made its way to the surface as he came close; his voice a deep whisper, “I’m here.”

Nothing else needed to be spoken.

[Silent Sources]

“To Your Majesty, the Most Noble and Gracious Kaiser Wolfgang, Emperor of Rigel. I am humbled that You would invite a mere I.I.S.C. representative into Your royal residence. It is an honor bestowed upon me which I could have never imagined receiving. Therefore You can imagine the immense regret that I feel to have to turn down such a gracious invitation. If my I.I.S.C. superiors were to discover that I was residing in Your palace, they would see it as a conflict of interest and immediately disqualify Rigel for consideration to host the new trade route. It is best that I remain here at Triberg Haus and conduct the negotiations from a place much more modest and removed from what could be considered, however wrongly, to be royal influence; and what could be more mundane than the home of a mere woman. In Your Service, Colonel William S. Savage.”

Kaiser Wolfgang listened as the Colonel’s response was read aloud. He was uncertain what surprised him more, that his summons, couched nicely in an ‘invitation’ had been spurned, or that playing ‘host’ to the I.I.S.C. emissary would be viewed as a conflict of interest.

Wolfgang waved the message bearer out of his presence. There was other business to attend to for the moment, and he needed time to consider his next steps. That Colonel needed to be where he could have ready access to him in the event that anything fell through. Too much was at stake to let him simply wander around Rigel un-chaperoned.

The Kaiser’s advisor leaned closer to whisper, “Milord, perhaps if You contacted the I.I.S.C. and offered to be his host until such time as they could ratify the agreement, I am certain they would understand Your concerns to keep their representative safely housed on Rigel as word of this pending deal might reach hostile ears, and could endanger their man. Perhaps such an approach would prove helpful toward garnering their approval to ‘house’ the man here?”

Wolfgang lifted a brow at his advisor. “Brilliant. Send the message immediately.” He was absolutely certain that when his invitation reached the Commission, they would see things his way and that would put their man right where he wanted him; inside the palace walls.

[Silent Sources]

The Merchant checked in the next morning at the agency, and true to the woman’s words, she handed him the chip that would secure him an interview at Triberg Haus. He gave the woman his most charming smile and murmured his gratitude for her help before erasing her memory of him and making his way from the agency toward an appointment with the Major Domo of the place. Some psionic skills were simply priceless.

He paused at the end of the long drive and studied the layout of the property and the exterior of the place. Why was it that these rich types had to have such open and expansive lawns surrounding their too big ‘homes’? Why couldn’t they live in reasonably sized structures and take care of themselves like everybody else? The thought was a sour note in his stomach as he made his way toward the grand entry.

A liveried man brought him to a halt, inquiring his business, and The Merchant held out the chip from the agency. He was checked and directed toward a side door. It was no surprise to him, servants and staff didn’t warrant using the front doors after all. His thoughts were growing nastier by the moment as he made his way toward the entry he was supposed to use.

The interviewer was late, which grated on The Merchant’s nerves. But at length, a man calling himself Baumann motioned for him to be seated. They spoke at length about the expectations, and the fact that this Colonel, who needed a new valet, was not familiar with Rigelian customs, and would rely heavily on the next one for tips on any number of subjects. They did not expect the man to remain long on Rigel, but while he was here, it would be the new valet’s job to assist him any way possible.

The Merchant knew how to play this game nicely. He had, after all, lived here for many years, blending in with the middle and upper class, but not hobnobbing with nobility. There was too much risk in recognition that way, but he knew the ins and outs, and made it quite clear to Baumann that he would be ideal. And then there was his secret. This Colonel would either spend eternity on Rigel, or his corpse would be shipped off world. In any case, the man wasn’t going to be breathing Rigelian air very much longer.

Baumann studied the man the entire time during the interview. He was neatly dressed, well manicured, and had all of the right answers, but something nagged at him. At the close of the interview, Baumann informed him that there would be a narrowing of candidates, and that the Colonel would be making the final decision. He would be notified shortly as time did not allow a lengthy evaluation period.

The Merchant gave a gentle ‘push’ to see if Baumann would sense it and if not, to assure that he would be among the final candidates. He rose and gave a bit of a bow to the Major Domo and followed a butler to the same door through which he had entered. Now he needed to get a better look at the house and grounds.

He returned to his rooms and sat down before his systems interface. Calling up aerial surveillance images of the grounds, he spent the next hour or so contemplating ingress and egress routes in the event that he would not be selected as the man who would be closest to this Colonel whom the Prince hated with such a passion. But when he sought the registered drawings for the floor plan of Triberg Haus, he hit a dead end. The floor plans were not publicly available.

Well, he would have to find those another way.

[Silent Sources]

Stefano headed for the chic shopping district of Festungsmauer after leaving the Colonel. Things hadn’t gone quite the way he had hoped, but one thing the Baron knew was that patience was a virtue, and the Colonel was no exception. He played his cards very close to his vest; that much was quite clear, but he hadn’t threatened to turn Stefano in for treason, and that meant that his offer to help him was not totally rejected, at least not yet.

The other point that was a given was that Sheldon would certainly be seeking a way to remove the Colonel from the equation. Either directly, or indirectly, but Sheldon was known for his ruthlessness, so the probability was a more direct removal of his nemesis. Colonel Savage had managed not only to take what Sheldon had deemed to be ‘his’, but he’d made the Prince look bad in front of the Kaiser in the process. And the Colonel had hinted that he understood that premise as well. He’d even intimated that perhaps removing the Prince might be something of value to him.

That brought a mirthless smirk to the Baron’s features as he studied images of some of the more recent biotechnological implants being offered. Stefano moved on to the next shop and found several fine bits of jewelry. Such things went a very long way toward securing the assistance of the Kaiser’s maids. He made his purchases and continued along the street. He would need eyes and ears inside the Prince’s rooms. The bits of gold and precious stones always managed to gain him a willing magpie. The added advantage to using the maids was that they could easily be removed, and vanish from existence, and few would ask too many questions.

The down side of course was that they were ill trained, and could easily be caught eaves dropping. But, there wasn’t a Peer in the system that didn’t use this form of intelligence gathering amongst themselves. He’d simply have to be carefully selective about which maids he employed for keeping tabs on the volatile Prince. Perhaps he could even hire a meretrix to send to the Prince’s manservant. If anyone had information on the Prince’s motives, it should be him, and what better way to get a man to talk than serious pleasures of the flesh?

The Baron returned to the Palace late that afternoon, and most of his purchases had already been delivered. His own valet had them laid out on a table awaiting Stefano’s review. The thing that gathered the most attention however was a sealed envelope from the Kaiser’s Chancellor. It had arrived approximately an hour earlier he was informed, and the Baron picked up the paper as though it were some sort of viper poised to envenomate him at the first opportunity.

He broke the seal on it and read silently….

Baron Stefano of Deneb,
The Kaiser conveys His pleasure at having seen you at Court for these last days, and regrets that negotiations did not turn in your favor. The Kaiser wishes to thank you however for your trouble, and is offering you the daughter of Count Briganti. The young woman is of good blood lines, and is young enough to settle where ever you would see fit to place her. She has a reasonable dowry and would prove a fine asset to either yourself, or to use in an advantageous alliance. Her sire has been notified, and the woman will be ready to depart for Deneb at your request.

The missive was signed on behalf of the Kaiser by the Chancellor.

Stefano frowned. That’s all he needed! He sighed. There would be no refusal of a ‘gift’ from the Kaiser, it was simply not done.

[Silent Sources]

Wolfgang retired to his own rooms. His advisor was busy trying to get a message to the I.I.S.C., and should have a response by morning he supposed. He’d had the Chancellor make arrangements to give Briganti’s daughter to the Baron as recompense for his trouble, but just what to do about the Volans’ Prince had not yet been resolved.

The Prince had tasted victory momentarily, only to have it snatched from his grasp by a wild card play. That kind of disappointment would not readily be smoothed over, but having a trade station here in Rigel was simply something no ruler in his right mind could say no to, not even to keep a minor Prince happy.

Wolfgang lit a hand rolled cigar and leaned back comfortably into his chair. Volans needed to be firmly attached to Rigel. Their borders would be the first line of defense against any invasion from that sector. It wasn’t so much that Volans itself was important. It was a sacrificial buffer that bought time for proper deployment of resources in the unlikely event that hostilities would come from that direction. Rigelian holdings were sparse out there, and Volans was the perfect pawn.

Of course, once the trade stop was implemented, they would not really have any need for Volans, the Colonel had the right of it there. Volans would become completely irrelevant. Wolfgang smiled to himself as he drew on the fine cigar. But that had not yet been confirmed, and for the moment at least, he needed to find an offering to appease the self-important pup.

But just what to offer Sheldon?

He glanced out the windows of his study, the view overlooked the harbor where several pleasure craft were negotiating the breakwater and heading into the deeper sea beyond. Pleasure, that was the key to appeasing Sheldon. Find his pleasurable pursuits and the problem would solve itself. Every man has a vice. He would find out what Sheldon’s most intimate vice was, and appease it.

He smiled to himself.

The mantle he wore seemed lighter than it had since his father’s assassination. He picked up a glass of cognac and momentarily wondered where Albrecht had vanished to. The former Earl could never return to Rigel, but the man had done him a huge favor. This new dawn for Rigel would be credited to himself rather than to his sire. Wolfgang swallowed the fiery liquid with a sigh of appreciation. Yes, life was indeed good.

[Silent Sources]

Margit peered warily around the corner of the intersecting halls. She listened for the sound of footsteps and heard none as she waited, holding her breath as long as she could. Once she was certain there was no one about, she scurried around the corner and up the back stairs to the third floor of the haus.

She paused again, listening for any footsteps and then tested the door to the former Duke’s suite. It was locked. She frowned. No one locked doors here, how was the staff supposed to take care of things? She slipped away from the door and retreated down to the second level. Perhaps the back accesses would provide better luck.

She waited patiently before sliding one of the hidden panels open and stepping into the labyrinthine network that ran behind the walls. She lit a small flash light like device and made her way up the stairs once more. When she was where she thought she should be, the paused, placing an ear against the door panel.

Maybe the doors had been locked because the Colonel was in his room? She frowned at that a moment. Surprising him would not be a wise idea. She waited and listened, but no sound came from the other side of the panel. She would simply have to take the risk.

Her fingers found the mechanism, but the panel failed to slide open for her. “What the devil?” She was even more shocked to find the back entrance sealed against her. She stood in the stygian darkness of the cold passage a few more minutes. Getting a key from someone would engender risk she wasn’t certain she was ready to take on.

A rustle on the stairs somewhere below her had her dousing the small light. She made her way into the farthest corner by touch alone as she worked to calm her pounding heart. Was someone in the passages? Or was it simply her over active imagination?

The rustle came again, but it seemed to come from something too small to be human. She hazarded a beam of light pointed down the hall, and the reddish eye shine of a small ferret peered back at her. She heaved a huge sigh of relief. It was time to go, and she followed the light back down to the second floor. The ferret followed her, almost as though he too were seeking an exit from the cold darkness, but she wouldn’t let the creature into the rooms. The last thing she needed was to be letting in wild creatures.

As the panel closed, the ferret changed form and Dominik stood in the absolute darkness pondering what he’d just seen.

[Silent Sources]

The small café bustled with lunch time patrons as The Merchant sat at a small table in the corner of the room. It was a table for two, and for the moment, he sat alone, seemingly engrossed in a periodical, but his entire being was focused on the front door of the place. She was due to bring him news that he would need, especially if this Colonel did not select him as the next valet.

The waitress came and refilled his drink, but he paid absolutely no heed to her flirting smile, or the fact that she lingered a bit too long after filling his cup. She gave up and moved on to other tables, but her eyes kept straying back to the stranger in the corner.

The Merchant glanced again at the time and stifled a vexed curse. If this one was going to work for him, she had better learn not to keep him waiting.

At length, she slid through the doors and let her eyes adjust to the reduced ambient lighting before spotting him in the far corner. She moved purposefully through the late lunch crowd and paused at his table. Since she was new to this kind of thing, she wasn’t sure whether she should sit down and join him, or remain standing.

He lifted his eyes to hers, very quietly hissing, “Sit down before you attract attention.”

She complied quickly, and the waitress sighed, why were all the good looking ones taken? But she made her way back to his table with a smile, “Can I get you something?” Her words were for the woman who’d just joined him, but her eyes were on the man.

The Merchant laid down his periodical and glanced between the waitress and his employee, “She will have a cup of tea for now.”

The woman tried to hide a grimace, she did not like tea, but this meeting wasn’t going to last very long anyway since she hadn’t been able to garner the information she’d been asked to provide. Not an auspicious start to a new job.

When the waitress left them alone, The Merchant gave her a bland look, “Do you have what I asked you for?”

She bit her lower lip, “Well, I have some of what you requested, but I ran into a bit of a snag and couldn’t get into his rooms. They are locked on all sides.”

The waitress set the tea in front of the woman, who never even looked at it. The strain between the woman and the male was nearly palpable, and the waitress made a hasty retreat. Maybe he wasn’t attached to her? She smiled at that and moved away to watch.

The Merchant’s expression could have been made of basalt for all the human warmth it held. “I paid you handsomely for this information, and now you tell me you cannot deliver it?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that he’d locked up the suite tighter than the Interplanetary Security Building?” She gave him a slightly defiant look before continuing, “But I have more than you requested as well.” She pulled a small computer chip from her bag and slid it across the table toward him. “The floor plans are here; including all dimensions, and includes the hidden passages.” She hoped that bit of news might soften his ire. “The special surprise is that some of the security information is in this too.”

The Merchant glanced at the chip but did not reach for it. “How did you come by that information? I simply asked you for a hand drawn floor plan.”

She smiled at him, “I’m not computer illiterate you know. This came out of the system files from the haus.”

He reigned in his initial retort with great difficulty. He wouldn’t touch that chip for anything in the system now. “You do realize that that chip is now marked, and will identify you as the person who requested the information? You do know that is precisely why I wanted a HAND drawn map?”

She winced, “Well, if they ask me, I will tell them that I wanted to learn my way around so that I didn’t blunder into the wrong places.” She seemed quite satisfied with her explanation.

The Merchant simply watched her. “Draw it out and bring it tomorrow. You keep that thing.” He rose then and left payment and a tip on the table, leaving the woman to sit there and frown at the chip.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah remained motionless in the center of the folly, her pale blue eyes locked on Wil as he entered her domain before slowly turning around to glance over her shoulder at him in invitation to touch. Her back was nearly bare, the salmon silk coiling almost as a living thing around her when she moved. Her voice came to him as a sultry whisper, "This night is ours." His appearance at the entrance of the folly reinforced her certainty that this was right.

Wil followed Azjah's slowly retreating form, and his eyes appreciatively gazed upon every delicious curve of the beautiful landscape of her body as it was illuminated in the golden light provided by the candles. He loved the way her legs seemed to go forever. In the past he tried not to think about them, but now he was letting his mind imagine all kinds of wonderful things with those perfect long legs. He walked up behind her silently and placed his hands on her hips. "I shall not want this night to end," he said softly.

Azjah happily leaned back against Wil’s body as his hands rested on her hips. She loved the counterpoint of her softer curves and Wil’s honed body. As she leaned against him, a faint hint of ginger blended with the air around them as she languorously reached up and pulled the long platinum picks from her hair, dropping them to the floor. Her hair came down in a silken cascade to slide over Wil's shoulder where her head rested. The heat of his hands on her skin sent a shiver of desire through her even through the thin silk wrapped around her. "This is our world tonight Wil, and I want it to be one we shall both hold onto." Azjah turned slightly, just enough to brush her lips along the column of his throat. Their future was uncertain, but tonight was absolute.

There was no place in the universe where they could make love for the first time and Wil not recall it for the remainder of his life, yet this folly and all that she had done to bring him here ensured that this night would be forever special and stand out amongst all the other times of intimacy that he prayed they'd have together. "It shall not be forgotten," he whispered as he gave her his throat to kiss and experience the fragrance of vanilla and almond. His hands moved slowly up her back and then held her in his embrace.

She turned slowly into his arms, her lips nibbling and kissing a path over his throat as her finger tips slowly traveled across his warm chest, seeking out the shirt's fastenings, and molding herself to him in the process. As the shirt opened beneath her fingers, Azjah's lips followed along the same pathway. She moved slowly, savoring his taste and the texture of his neck and chest.

Wil could feel her body through the pale salmon silk, and he had to smile that she now held the advantage of being freed from the normal clothing, yet the way she exposed his chest to her lips made him think that the advantage might be his after all. He removed his shirt from his body and let it fall, and he was not surprised to notice that he was already experiencing the feelings building inside from the erotic nature of this night.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as he shed the shirt; she slid both hands very slowly over his chest, following the planes of muscle with tantalizing slowness. Here and there she brushed his skin with the warmth of her tongue as her mouth followed where her fingers led. The silk she wore wrapped around her body was only held in place by the length that draped gracefully over her shoulder, and hugged her almost as a second skin at her hips.

Wil moved his hands up through her hair and watched her as she moved her hands over his chest and followed her touches with the warm, moist caresses of her tongue. He could feel his heart pound as he brought his hands down to the silk that was upon her shoulder. He felt its texture for a moment and then began to slowly remove the silk from her shoulder.

As Wil's fingers savored the textures of the silk and he began lifting it to remove it, Azjah sank very slowly to her knees before him, her hands sliding down his waist and over his hips as she did so, pausing to kiss him just where his bared torso disappeared into his trousers. She kept her hands on his hips as she brushed that kiss just above the belt’s buckle. The silk sheath was long enough to leave a trail of the sheer material from his hands down to where she now knelt.

His stomach was flat, well-sculptured, and placed no pressure on the belt of his pants. He looked down and let the silk glide off her shoulder and down to where she was kneeling. His fingers trailed down her cheek to the corners of her mouth. Oh how he loved this woman. He wanted her - desperately.

Azjah's attention was riveted to Wil's body, and the utter perfection that she had only seen and never dared touch before now, and she leisurely allowed her hands and her mouth to explore as the silk slid off her shoulder to pool around her on the pillows. She slowly looked up into Wil's eyes as his fingers trailed down her cheek toward the corner of her lips before she drew his finger slowly into her mouth, her hands blindly but gently reaching for the belt of his trousers.

When the belt was loosened he lowered himself to his knees before her and his mouth followed his finger to her lips. "I love you, Azjah," he whispered as he removed his finger and opened his mouth on hers, and kissed her slow and deep.

Her arms slid around Wil's shoulders as he joined her on the pillows, she kissed along his jaw, "Wil Savage, I love you too" was whispered in his ear before his mouth descended on hers in a kiss that set her blood on fire. This was how it was meant to be between lovers, and she was free to take Wil as the man she adored.

He leaned Azjah back on the pillows with her head cradled in his arm and his other hand touching her cheek as they melted into the kiss. He had kissed her before, but never like this. This time it was mouths making love. This time they knew that it was right - totally right to express their love in every way.

The cool silk of the pillows contrasted sharply with the warmth of Wil's body as they went down together. Azjah's mouth parted to join Wil in that sensuous kiss that felt so perfect. It was the bringing together of two halves designed to fit flawlessly together as one. She slid her fingers through his hair as she lost herself in a kiss unlike any they'd ever shared. He stole her breath away, and she didn’t mind. In fact, she wanted more.

He breathed her in as he slowly explored her mouth; his hand moved away from her cheek and slid the silk down her body. There his hand released the silk and moved up her body until her breast was grasped. He pulled back slightly from the kiss only to look into her eyes, and then brought his mouth upon hers once again.

Azjah's tongue mated with Wil's in a give and take that melted her then and there. She arched into him as his hand slid upward and closed over her breast. She sighed in pure pleasure as his mouth met hers again, and slid one leg around Wil's even as one hand coiled behind his neck to pull him closer still. She could not get enough of him.

Wil's kisses left her mouth and journeyed slowly down her soft neck, taking time to thoroughly kiss and nibble on that sensitive area where neck and shoulders meet. He moved his mouth to her ear. "I want you," he whispered.

A delicious heat coiled low in her abdomen as their kiss deepened, but at his whispered words her heart skipped a beat. She slowly opened her eyes as she felt the soft brush of his lips near her ear, she gave him a slow smile as her fingers slid down his spine, "I am yours to have my love."

Wil smiled and brought soft kisses back down to her shoulders, and then lowered further still. He kissed her while his hand moved to release the remainder of the silk.

Azjah tipped her head to the side to give him more access to her neck even as her finger nails lightly traced over his back, she couldn't prevent the quick bowing of her body beneath him along with what sounded part sigh of pleasure, and part moan for more. The silk that had been wrapped around her slid away and the leg she had wrapped around his slid upward along the inside of his calf toward his knee. Wil's name was a silken whisper on her lips.

Wil had found the woman he knew he couldn't live without, and that thought seemed to overwhelm him. He stopped the enjoyment of her body to just look upon her face for a moment, perhaps just to make sure this all wasn't merely the dream of some colonel who had fallen asleep at his desk. It wasn't a dream. It was as real as anything he ever experienced in his life. He grinned that bad boy grin and began to place kisses down her body and over her stomach as his hand pressed over her thigh and slid down to her knee.

Azjah slid her hands over Wil's upper body as though memorizing every millimeter of him, and when he looked into her eyes, she could feel just how much he wanted her, and her hand lifted to caress his face. Here was the man she knew she could spend eternity with and never for a moment look back. His bad-boy grin brought a matching grin to her face until he began to kiss his way down her body. The heat of his hands on her skin sent a flood of heat through her veins as she fought the urge to close her eyes and give herself up to sensation, she wanted to watch him, to experience all of this. All he had to do was look at her and her body wanted him.

Wil was in no hurry; he was going to savor the woman he loved as one might a very fine wine - to experience her fully, and let her experience him just as fully in return. Nothing was certain in this life, and if there was one thing Wil had learned, it was that you didn't throw away or take for granted special times, and nothing was more special than this. He moved his body between her legs and began to place kisses on her left leg, leaving a soft trail of sensations from her ankle to behind her knee, his eyes never leaving hers.

Wil had slipped beyond her reach for the moment, but his eyes never left her own and she kept her eyes locked on him as he left a sensual trail of heated velvet along her leg. She shivered more from the coiling desire that he was building inside her than the cool night air, which no longer registered. Azjah wanted her arms around Wil, but this was pure sensuality that rippled through her body, and she whispered his name. Her fingers curled around the silk that no longer covered her.

The whisper of his name was an encouragement that told him to continue. He did, but now he just closed his eyes as he savored her and moved his kisses up the soft flesh of her inner thigh. He moved his mouth closer to her private area and whispered, "I love you, Azjah."

The path of kisses turned Azjah's intentions of watching Wil into a lost notion as she gave herself up to the moment. The heat of his breath on her skin and the velvet touch of his lips too intense and she closed her eyes with a deep sigh of pleasured torment. She reached for his hair as he began that most intimate of kisses, he loved her, as she loved him, but rational thought vanished in that instant.

Wil felt her fingers at his hair, touching him as he touched her with such intimate kisses. As he was enjoying her feel and taste and fragrance, he reached down and finished the process of removing his pants and shoes, pushing them aside before turning his full attention to pleasing the woman he loved so much.

Azjah was completely lost in a world of sensation that set every nerve in her body alight. She wasn't aware of how Wil shed the remainder of his clothing, but she knew the instant his body was liberated from them. She felt the heat of his body acutely. She wanted him, wanted everything they could give one another. Her fingers slid through his hair, "Wil," it was a breathless plea.

In response to her plea all he said was a whispered, "I love you," spoken with his lips against her. He continued to enjoy her, as he sought to bring her pleasure (and his) to a higher level.

She shattered into innumerable pieces of exquisite pleasure. Every breath, every movement sent ripples of ecstasy through her body. She wrapped both legs around him, riding the pure waves of heaven and managed a ragged "I love you," back.

Slowly, even reluctantly, he left that delicious place and moved his kisses up her stomach and to her mouth as he laid his body over her. His fingers combed through her hair on each side of her head as he cradled her head between his strong forearms. He pulled gently on her lower lip and smiled with his blue eyes brilliant with desire. "I want you," he said.

Her skin was so sensitive and as he kissed his way up her body, she trembled until his lips met her own in a kiss as he held her in his arms; her own slid around him, holding him close. She smiled into his eyes with a passion that could only be mirrored there as she returned the long kiss. "You may have me any way you desire my love." Azjah wanted him the same way he had just had her, and she shifted beneath him slightly to roll him with her.

He was about to take her up on having her in the way he desired when he suddenly felt her roll, turning him with her. She was a woman who was full of surprises, and he loved that about her. He found himself looking up into her light blues, his hands still cupping her face.

Her hands moved over his body, holding tightly to him as she gave him a quicksilver smile as he rolled with her, propping herself up with her hands on either side of his head, she lowered her mouth to his. She loved the way he tasted. She kissed her way down his neck, nuzzling him at the sensitive hollow where his neck and shoulder met before she kissed a path down his chest. She slowly dragged her tongue over him before glancing up into his face.

Wil closed his eyes as Azjah placed kisses down his body, enjoying the pleasure of her lips and tongue on his body. This was a dream come true and he wondered what he could possibly have done to be such a blessed man. He then felt her looking at him and he looked down upon her face and gave a wink to the woman he adored.

Azjah bubbled with playful mirth at his wink and nibbled gently but ever downward across his stomach, warm velvet lips and tongue traveling to his left hip as silken hair trails and curls over his lower body. She'd found the perfect man, and she intended to show him just how perfect she thought him to be.

"Oh my," escaped from somewhere within him. The next hour spent in the passion and rapture of two people finding their way through Sardanapalian delights without regard for time and place. Azjah had waited for this moment, and would not be hurried now. She rocked forward and melted at last into his arms for long moments, but the slow movement beneath her needed to be answered.

Wil's hands on her body were indescribably good, but as he swept her onto the pillows, she gazed into his eyes and hoped he could read there how much she needed him. The bad-boy growl brought a slow smile to her lips as she coiled both arms around his neck and drew him down for a long kiss to blend with their lovemaking. He was taking her once more to the precipice of passion, a long, soft "ohhhh" slipped from her lips.

Passion had coiled within her body, pooled low and built. She teetered on the edge of ecstasy with him, but as his own climax rocked him, she slipped uncontrollably over to join him there. She didn't need to open her eyes to look at him, she felt his love. She slowly wrapped both legs around him. "Mm, I love you too," she murmured back to him as a sated smile curved her lips.

He settled down upon her. His left hand caressed the side of her face and played with her hair as he placed kisses on her jaw and neck. "You have made this an amazing night," he said softly. "Now you've done it, you know. You're stuck with me forever."

She turned to kiss his hand as he gently caressed the side of her face. She could have purred as his fingers threaded through her hair, "I do not consider it being stuck with you." She shifted slightly beneath him and her body rippled again around him as he kissed her neck. "We were pretty amazing tonight, weren't we?" Pale blue eyes remained half closed as she savored Wil's weight atop her. She smiled and closed her eyes then, "I hope you're stuck with me Wil Savage, I'd like to do this again for the rest of my life."

He slipped slightly to the side and wrapped his arms around her so that she was cuddled up against him. "Amazing? Hmm," he paused as if he had to think about it. Then he grinned. "We were absolutely amazing, my darlin'. I want to be amazing with you every night, for the rest of our lives. I so want to be your husband." He placed a kiss upon her lips.

She cuddled in beside him, draping one leg over his and one arm over his chest in contented repose. "You haven't asked me yet, shall I say yes before you do?" Her head rested on his shoulder as she gave him a teasing grin.

Wil laughed. "You're right, I haven't." He continued to play with her hair, caressing it. "I must say, things have gone in unexpected directions and rather rapidly at that. This is not the way I had anticipated asking. . ." he had to smile at the thought of it, "but would you? Would you make me the happiest man in this universe by being my wife? Would you marry me, my dearest Lady Caer?"

Azjah's stomach did a flip flop as she listened to him. Her fingers curled gently where they rested atop his chest, "Colonel Savage, our lives have gone wildly astray of intention, but if you'd have me, honored will I be to say yes to you." She was afraid to move, and without realizing it, held her breath to see what his response would be.

"Would I have you?" He was practically speechless. "Oh yes...oh, baby. My love. I would be so honored to be your husband." He had no more words he could speak. His mouth came hard upon hers and kissed her slow and deep, with no intention of having it end anytime soon.

[Silent Sources]

Back in his rooms, the Merchant pulled the small vial from his pocket. The poison had been given to him by the Prince, and he had been told about this particularly nasty concoction. He wondered just what went into it. The man’s warnings about getting any of it on himself had been quite dire. It would seem that this little treasure from the Prince would work either through contact with skin, or ingestion. Ingestion he had been told was faster and more absolute. But skin contact would poison just as surely, if more slowly. The Merchant regarded the vial for several minutes; he wanted to know what was in it for his own curiosity.

Before long, he had made up his mind and using disposable gloves, opened the container and inserted a small micro pipette to draw off a sample for the GC-MS analysis. He had a friend with a small apothecary on the far side of town. With the right incentive, the man would hold his tongue to all others but himself.

The Merchant hastened toward the shop, targeting his timing for closing time to assure that there would be no clients to deal with. He slipped inside the small shop’s doors just as the thin owner was about to seal the doors for the day. “Ah Merchant, what brings you to my side of town today?” The owner was a friendly sort of fellow, well used to using his amiability to encourage customers to buy more than they had initially intended to procure. It was a valuable asset for any merchant, and Othmar had more than his share of this gift.

The Merchant asked Othmar if they could evaluate a sample once the shop had closed, and he made it plain to Othmar that his silence would be well rewarded.

The shopkeeper gave the Merchant a shrewd look, “Just what sort of thing are we analyzing? I’ll need to know to determine if I have the proper equipment.”

“I have an alleged poison from a new source, but I would like to make certain it has not been altered or degraded. It is a liquid, and should be nicely broken down through spectroscopy methods I know you have here.” The Merchant considered just how much to tell the man, and if need be, he could alter the man’s memory of this evening, though having a blackmailable event between them was always a welcome ace in the hole.

Othmar nodded and sealed his shop door, turning on the closed sign for passersby. “Come, bring your sample then.” Without looking at his after hour’s customer, he headed toward the back room. It took him several minutes to power up the GC-MS equipment, and several more to calibrate it for sample taking. At length, he turned and looked at The Merchant, who’d taken up residence in his desk chair. “Might I have your sample?”

The Merchant pulled it from his pocket, “Make certain you don’t get it on your skin.” Then he handed the minute vial over to the pharmacist.

The auto-sampler slid over to the micro vial and drew the micro-liters of fluid out and the system began its analysis. Since it was a poison of unknown content, Othmar had set a rather long program at stepped temperatures for the evaluation in the GC. He did not expect volatiles, but one never knew. Then he took another sample and swabbed it across the salt crystal and set the assembly into the FTIR before initiating that scan.

The FT-IR was quicker, and soon the computer had graphed out the organic components. Othmar’s brow rose as he read the scan, tert butyl alkanes, sis-alkenes, naphelene peak was there, although fairly low, an aliphatic ether, a strong ionized carboxyl peak, fumarate and maleate esters, strong content of aliphatic ketones, secondary amines were almost off the scale, substituted imines likewise were extraordinarily high concentrations, a chlorine compound, covalent sulfonates. He hazarded a glance at The Merchant. If these were the organics, he wondered just what the GC-MS was going to reveal.

He made his way toward the other analyzer. Mass spectroscopy is a unique method of spectral analysis because the other forms rely on ground state evaluation of the molecules. The mass spectrometer ionizes the molecule and it is the ions that are examined in detail. It is a destructive test, but yields far more information than the other methods. The ionization of molecules results in positive ions being generated from the removal of a single electron.
M = M+ & e

The ion M+ is known as the molecular ion. Two of the most important properties of an ion are its charge, (z) and it’s mass (m). The mass spectrometer measures the mass to charge ratio (m/z) for ions. This method is very accurate. The method of ionizing the molecules is usually accomplished using electron impact in the range of 20 to 75 eV.

The first results from GC were being fed into the MS now. Othmar was beginning to wish he had an NMR from what he was seeing.

At last the sample had been consumed and the results displayed on the screen. Aflatoxins were in strong abundance which explained the presence of organic solvents. Ammonium chromate was toxic by inhalation, which was an interesting addition. Antimony oxychloride, he shook his head, this was nasty stuff, being toxic at 0.5 mg/m3 of air. Benzidine sulfate was an ingestion poison. He blinked; Benzyl chlorocarbonate would emit phosgene fumes at elevated temperatures. Cis-butene-2 was an asphyxiant gas, and due to its highly flammable nature, it’s presence in this poison surprised him further. Carbon disulfide was toxic by skin absorption at 10 ppm in air. Cobaltocene, or dicyclopentadienylcobalt was another ingestion toxin. Curare! This is a toxic mixture of approximately 40 alkaloids! Diallyl phthalate was another ingestion toxin, also insoluble in water and would require the organic solvents he’d seen on the IR.

Othmar glanced at The Merchant when the dieldrin came up. It was toxic through ingestion, inhalation and skin absorption at 0.25 mg/m3 air. This was truly a cocktail guaranteed to kill whomever came into contact with it. Othmar printed the scans off and handed them to The Merchant. “Make certain you don’t break the container you’re keeping this in, you won’t live long enough to get any help, not that any hospital around here is prepared to deal with that kind of cocktail even if they could diagnose it rapidly enough.”

The Merchant nodded. “So what else can you tell me about that mixture?”

Othmar washed his hands just out of habit. Had he contacted the solution, he would not have helped himself with such actions. “Well, there is a mixture of synthesized poisons and natural poisons. There appears to be concentrated toxin from a Dendroaspis jamesoni. The nastiest of the mamba venoms; it inhibits breathing and the vagus nerve that controls heartbeat. It appears there is venom from Trachinus draco, and it results in excruciating pain. Even morphine won’t take the edge of this kind of pain. This one kills through cardiac failure or convulsions. From the plant world, there is concentrated toxin from Amanita muscaria to cause vomiting and diarrhoea, pronounced salivation, suppression of urine, stupor, cold sweats and weakened heart action. Amanita palloides, which works by dissolving blood corpuscles. Looks to be some Aconitum napellus, and it too produces vomiting, diarrhoea, paralysis of the respiratory organs and convulsions. You have quite a soup of toxins there. The most curious thing about this sample is the concentration factors. Every one of these has been concentrated to levels that I’ve never seen before. I can’t begin to tell you how it was done.”

Othmar wanted to know just what that was going to be used for, but he was also afraid to ask. It wouldn’t take much of that to kill a full grown man. Irritating the man who had an unknown volume of this stuff was not a healthy thing to do. He decided to take his payment and keep his mouth shut. The Merchant had been a good customer in the past, this was just another transaction.

[Silent Sources]

Margit had made her way back to the Palazzo. She was bound and determined to show her new employer that she was worth every penny he was paying her. She slipped in the employee entrance and made her way to her small grouping of rooms. It wasn’t a big space, but it was allotted to her, and she didn’t have to pay rent somewhere. She had three rooms to herself, which was more than she’d had when she lived in that nasty little village she’d been born in. Margit had left home at the age of fifteen and made her way from the rural areas she considered embarrassing to the capital city of the empire. As she settled onto her bed with the paper and pens she needed for rendering the electronic data into something untraceable, she tried not to remember those early years of her life. She’d suffered at the hands of unscrupulous people, and might have ended up being nothing more than a corpse used and abused before turning up dead in a dumpster. But life had taken a rare twist and she’d wound up here several years ago.

The fact that she had 3 rooms all to herself had been a dream come true, but now she wanted more. She wanted to get away from being a maid and at the beck and call of others. She wanted to be answerable only to herself, well, as independent as anyone in the Empire could be. Margit wanted the next step in life, but to do that, she needed more money. She’d saved a lot in the time she’d worked here, but her new employer was offering her even more for some pretty basic help. It wasn’t that she was ill treated here, but it was no longer what she wanted out of life.

She spent several hours translating the information onto paper, taking great care to keep everything to scale. She then decided to make her way into the warren of hidden passages and count the number of stairs. She was certain that would be very helpful information.

With a smile, she picked up a hand held light and her papers. She paused at her doorway, opening it slowly and peering into the halls in both directions. She didn’t want to be seen disappearing into the passages. She knew what she would say if she were caught, but if she could avoid detection, so much the better.

The halls were devoid of people and she hurried to the end of the hall, glancing about again for others before activating the panel and slipping into the cold, dark passage. She shuddered when the panel slid closed, leaving her in the blackness, alone with only the sound of her heart beat and breathing that seemed to echo in the blackness. It took her a second to activate the light source and get her bearings. Then she was off, counting stairs and mapping the passages with care.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

The darkness was still velvet black, and Azjah lay curled up beside Wil. He still had his arm around her, they hadn’t moved much if at all for the last several hours. She lay there on the edge of blissful sleep and wakening until the owl hooted just beyond the entry to the folly. She listened as the hoot came again, there was no mistake, they would have to move, and she hated the thought of waking Wil. Her pale blue eyes opened before she kissed his cheek, now slightly roughened with morning stubble.

His eyes were open almost the same microsecond that she moved, as though he either hadn’t been asleep, or he was such a light sleeper that the slightest sound or movement would bring him awake. Azjah gave him a smile, “I am sorry to say, we will shortly have company. I think we need to be dressed and ready before Fulco gets here.” Their private idyll was over it would seem.

In the darkness a twig snapped, and that was followed by the sound of Fulco’s voice announcing his arrival to escort them back to the Haus.

Azjah groaned, she had more than enjoyed the solitude they’d had, and then Wil’s last words of the night brought her to absolute stillness. He’d asked her to be his wife, and she’d said yes. She turned from where she was dressing to study Wil a moment, a smile curving her lips as she put the finishing touches on her clothing, which had been brought earlier. She couldn’t very well go home wearing the salmon silk after all.

She moved toward Wil, wrapping both arms around his waist from behind. “You know you’ve gained yourself a fair bit of trouble now?” She knew he was perfectly capable of getting himself into trouble, but now he was agreeing to take on the responsibilities of a Rigelian Peer. As he turned around, she lifted onto her toes to kiss him briefly, “There’s no backing out now my dear.”

She winked at Wil and glanced at the folly entrance where Fulco now stood, and the sky was just beginning to turn a soft, dove gray color before the suns would climb above the horizon. “Good morning Fulco, I believe we are ready to return now.” She wasn’t, but there was no help for returning to the real world. Last night had been a night she would never forget. Not ever.

[Silent Sources]

Dominik winged his way back to the Haus. He was already feeling the impending rising of Rigel’s suns, and he hadn’t fed yet. The night he’d spent watching over the Marchioness and the Colonel was over, and Fulco was now responsible for their safety as daylight invaded the land. It would have been so much easier if he had a blood bond to the woman, but he understood why they did not have that bond. With the events of last evening, it was probable, given the Colonel’s views on blood drinkers, that no such bond would ever exist.

He paused as he shifted back into human form inside the darkened passageway. Someone was inside the passages. Fear had the intruder’s heart rate elevated as he began to move silently through the stone path. He knew where this rising’s meal was coming from at any rate.

He found her counting stairs as she made her way through the maze of passages. Then he watched as she documented the number of stairs in that section. She then counted steps to the next set of stone stair treads. She was very clearly mapping the corridors, but for the moment, Dominik did not know why.

Dominik called the woman to him using his gifts, and she stopped, turning around slowly in the darkness. She smiled at him, as though happy to see an old friend as Dominik approached her. After he had fed, he placed a fond memory in her mind and released her from his thrall. Now he would wait and watch in the darkness to see just what mischief she was up to.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah and Wil had returned to the Haus and he’d retreated to his rooms while she settled in to make some changes at Drachen Walde Industries. She wasn’t going to let Wolfgang destroy her life if she could help it, and there were things she could do to ensure that he couldn’t touch most of her assets if things went badly. It would take some time to make changes that wouldn’t show up on the Imperial radar, and she had no doubt that her finances were now being watched closely.

While she was accessing her financial systems, she pondered just how Wil was going to make contact with the I.I.S.C. given the manner in which he had separated himself from them, and she couldn’t come up with any feasible explanation that would put him into the good graces of that organization. Her brushes with them had always been short and sweet as she’d avoided stepping on their turf where ever she could. Staying beyond their radar kept her life a whole lot easier, and so far she’d been successful, although, if she had dealt with them before now, perhaps she could hold some influence over their next actions once Wil did make contact. She hadn’t asked him what he planned to do, somehow that grim spectre hadn’t been one she’d wanted to visit, and she chided herself for being a coward. Sooner or later, they were going to have to talk about this, and unfortunately, she suspected it would be sooner rather than later.

She toyed with the touchpad, no; somehow she doubted she’d be any asset for Wil in dealing with these people. They were arrogant and so convinced that they were the ultimate authority on all things galactic. Parsing out trade lanes, deciding who got richer than Croesus and who was turned into bits of interstellar dust. Wil knew them, knew how they would react, and she had to trust him to handle this his way. She was unaccustomed to taking the right seat in such important decisions, but she really didn’t have a choice at the moment. So why was she so worried? Wil knew them. Intimately. He knew how to handle this.

She pulled three perfectly round spheres from her pocket and studied them as though they may have answers that she hadn’t considered. One was half blue, and half clear, and it was the largest of the three. The second was a lovely shade of teal green and pale amber, and the smallest one was burgundy and clear. It never ceased to amaze her how beautiful they could be, and how such beauty often belied purpose. They were perfectly formed for their purpose. Beautiful, unobtrusive, easily concealed, they were truly ‘deadly beautiful’ she thought. Azjah laid them gently onto the desk as a knock sounded at the library door.

Fulco opened the door as she bade entry, “Your Grace, We had arranged for further interviews for the new valet when ever the Colonel is ready to do so. Background checks are completed and filed here.” He approached the desk and laid a small chip onto the corner before stepping back. “Surveillance has detected an unknown person walking the perimeter of the properties, and we have had unusual inquiries for data from the systems. This activity is atypical and I request that neither you nor the Colonel make any further forays onto the grounds unaccompanied.” He remained formally standing in front of her desk, unwilling to leave until he garnered her acquiescence.

He glanced at the three spheres where they sat on her desk, “And I request that you keep those on your person and not in plain sight.”

Azjah picked up the spheres and slid them back into her pocket before nodding at Fulco. “Alright, but Fulco, I will not curtail my activities out of fear. Do what you must, but I want the Calypso readied to sail.” She held his eyes long moments until he gave a brief nod.

Notheissen seemed poised to object and then thought better of it. She had said ‘alright’. “As you wish.” He turned and removed himself from the room which allowed Azjah to return to her project for the afternoon. Fulco’s brain was replaying the manner in which the former Grand Duke had been killed, and the notion that she wanted to sail gnawed at him. He’d have that damned yacht torn apart and reassembled before it would leave the dock. He knew who the primary suspect in the Grand Duke’s murder had been, and he knew that person was disappeared, not dead.

Baumann watched the security chief depart before bringing a small tray of tea and knocking on the door. The Marchioness’ voice sounded slightly exasperated as she bade him enter. He closed the door behind him and approached the desk, setting the tray down and pouring her a cup of the cranberry tea without being asked to do so.

She glanced up at Baumann, who had remained absolutely silent, which was unusual for him. “Something is on your mind Baumann?”

He set the cup down at her right hand, “Your Grace has had a difficult return home. Is there anything I can do to improve this trip?” He remained standing opposite her desk, “I have taken the liberty of having the Star Dragon prepared for flight, and done so very quietly.” His implication was clear, if she wanted a quick escape, the ship was ready. “The staff is; of course, abuzz over your granted annulment, but madam, that will die down shortly. The novelty of that decision would wag tongues in the best of times.” He was almost apologetic over having to mention that the rumor mill was busily churning away.

She gave him a wry smile as she reached for the tea cup, “Baumann, thank you for the information. Do you think I will unduly shock the world by being wed at the end of 30 days?”

Baumann gave her a knowing smile, “Your Grace, being forced into a contractual marriage is not something you have much control over. No one will see that as unseemly.” He sought to allay her concerns on that score, if indeed she had any. She had kept mostly to herself, or in the Colonel’s company, and he had not been able to determine how she was holding up through all of the machinations of her cousin.

Azjah chuckled, she was sure he’d heard the outcome of the audience, and his response had confirmed it. “Well then, we will manage as best we can with the hand we are dealt, but somehow I do not think you came in here to say such things. What is on your mind Baumann?” She really could care less about what was seemly and what was unseemly, but Baumann’s lingering was uncharacteristic. She motioned for him to have a seat, but he declined.

“Your Grace, perhaps it would be in your best interests to leave Rigel, at least for the time being.” He suddenly looked very old to Azjah. “At least until we can resolve the current mysteries.”

She glanced up at him, “Is there new information?” If there was, she wanted it.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Somehow the hours had fled, and Azjah had not seen Wil at all this day. She kept looking at the library door, as if willing him to step through it.

What ever Wil was doing, he'd been cloistered alone for most of the day. Her mind kept wandering into territory she didn't want to explore, but Wil was going to have to contact the I.I.S.C., and she was just getting a moment to enjoy his company.

The idea that they would damage that precariously balanced moment brought a flash of anger that Azjah wasn't used to feeling about entities unknown. "let them try to destroy this," she muttered.

She had finished making the transfers that she dared make without raising flags and shut down the computers.

Should she go looking for Wil?

[Wil Savage]

Colonel Savage had materialized within the Triberg Haus master suite less than a minute before there was a knock on the door. As was typical, it took several seconds for him to gain his bearings and balance, and to confirm that the transportation had placed him accurately at the coordinates he had entered. The system had never failed, but he still felt the relief on having the “journey” pass and find himself at the intended location. Horror stories were still told at the academy of times when the dematerializing transport had malfunctioned with catastrophic results. Those were the older units, and the technology has since been perfected – as long as human error didn’t enter the picture.

He confirmed the transportation on the digi-pad and then shut it down and slipped it into his pocket. The deed had been done and now it was just a waiting game. He was not sure what was lying ahead for him, but at least Azjah would be safe. They had promised.

When Wil and Azjah returned to the Triberg Haus he had wasted no time getting back to doing what he knew was necessary. He had taken out the digi-pad and keyed in the code that activated the Class VI Prototype Long-Ranged fighter craft that he had named The Callisto. The ship was cloaked and in a Rigelian orbit, waiting to be of service. It was equipped with a DeMat Tranport system that was usually found only on the much larger categories of spacecraft. The transport system had passed initial tests and the ship’s computer diagnostics reported that all was normal, so Wil took the chance. Within 15 seconds of activation he was standing in the ship’s small transport room, which felt more like a closet with a glass door than any transport room that he was familiar with.

The ship was cold and dark. Wil muttered a few curses that condensed in the cold air, and then he quickly moved to the flight deck to adjust the environmental settings. Full interior lighting came on and warmth began to flow through the vents. “Next time, Savage, check environmental before transporting,” he muttered as left the flight deck and walked to his cabin. It all looked as he had left it, which now seemed like ages ago. He opened the half-full bottle of scotch and poured himself a double, then lit a cigarette. Wil looked at himself in the small mirror on the wall. “You’re engaged now, Savage. You can’t afford to mess up.” He shed the clothes he had been wearing when he followed the lights to the folly and his awaiting Marchioness, and between sips of scotch and hits on his cigarette he put on the same I.I.S.C. uniform he wore when he had escaped the exploding transport. He then returned to the flight deck with glass in hand and the cigarette hanging from his lips. He had come to like this ship and would really hate giving it up, but that was the least of his problems at this point. Making sure Azjah was safe from the Emperor and the Prince now had priority. Staying alive and becoming Azjah’s husband was not very far below that.

He sat in the pilot’s seat and activated the communications console. The I.I.S.C. Headquarters frequency was Top Secret, but every I.I.S.C. agent at his level had it memorized. He keyed it in, waited for the connection to be relayed at hyperlight speeds over thousands of light years, and then the return signal that confirmed the connection.

When the connection was confirmed he spoke the words he had hoped he’d never have to speak again.

“I.I.S.C. ComLink. Colonel William Samuel Savage, I.I.S.C. Agent 541 reporting in. I wish to be connection to General Lloyd Morningstar, Priority Alpha One.”

He stared out of the ship’s forward window and could see the ghostly reflection of himself as he put the cigarette to his lips and waited for the response. “Perhaps I should have said this is Savage’s damned ghost reporting in,” he thought as he took a last hit on the cigarette in a way reminiscent of man before the firing squad.