Chapter 4
FOUR
Cyprian
Cyprian stood alone in his office with walls lined in opulent fabrics. The faint hum of the station thrummed beneath his feet. The window revealed the station at the beginning of the down cycle. Fewer lights shone from the many structures, making the darkness of space more black than usual. He rubbed the nape of his neck, pacing. Fivra’s origins haunted him. It was a puzzle missing crucial pieces, and he’d never had a fondness for puzzles or missing pieces. He couldn’t shake the thought of her gaunt frame and the prison markings on her neck. What had she endured? And, crucially, why? What had this gentle female done to put her in an Axis prison?
“Glivar,” he called, his voice reverberating with impatience. The heavy door slid open, revealing his assistant’s hulking figure as he lumbered in, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
“Yes, boss?” Glivar’s voice rumbled.
“Get me the full details of Fivra’s profile. I want to know everything there is to know about her before we proceed.” Cyprian settled in behind his large desk, fingers tapping rhythms against the polished surface. “I need her history—the complete file. You may need to use the characters on her neck to find her designation—591-A.”
Glivar frowned, a flicker of confusion passing over his features. “Boss, you know as well as I do the Axis maintains tight control over the information regarding penal colonies. If she’s been in one of their facilities, we’d be locked out of those files.”
“Locked or not, she’s here now,” Cyprian growled, agitation sparking in his chest. “This isn’t just a financial investment anymore. She knows another Zaruxian—a male who oversaw the colony. I want to know who he is and why a female like Fivra was in a prison.”
“I hope you’re not…influenced by her delicate appearance. There are many reasons a female could be a prisoner, and she could be very good at feigning innocence.”
He looked flatly at Glivar. “Do you think she’s a hardened criminal, Glivar?”
His assistant sighed. “No, but females don’t come to Erovik unless they have a past. And they really don’t end up at Falmic-5 unless they crossed someone wrong. Very wrong.”
That was true, usually. No, always , in Cyprian’s experience. But Fivra said she was a farmer, and the calluses on her hands backed up that claim.
“Also, it would help if we knew what penal colony she was from,” Glivar added. “There are hundreds, if not thousands, of penal colonies within the Axis’ system. She could be from any of them.”
“Then let’s find out which one,” Cyprian countered, leaning forward. “Start by checking for recent records of Terians being moved, and those with a settlement designation.”
Glivar nodded, but a grim smile crossed his face. “Leave it to me, boss. But it might take a while, and I might have to go through some…alternate channels to get around locked files.”
Cyprian sighed. The weight of the station’s bureaucracy was not a light burden. “Do what you must. But don’t draw attention to yourself. We cannot afford any scrutiny over our activities here.”
“Understood,” Glivar replied. “I will report back when I have more information for you.”
As Glivar walked out, Cyprian returned to gazing out the window, his thoughts whirling like the stars in the galaxy beyond. Fivra’s worry etched deep lines across her soft features, and her gaze—filled with longing and fear—nagged at him. It wasn’t just a business transaction anymore; it was personal. He wanted to protect her and find the Zaruxian she’d initially confused him with.
His fingers splayed on the surface of his desk, but it was his mind that drifted back to the beautiful female who had just landed in his brothel. Though she had arrived in a vulnerable state, there was a flicker of resilience in her eyes, like a fire struggling to stay lit against a strong wind.
Cyprian straightened, determination sharpening his focus. As much as he attempted to place distance between himself and his emotions, he couldn’t dismantle the knot of concern that twisted in his gut. He needed answers to questions that had plagued him for his whole, long life. Where did he come from? Who were his family? For the first time in a long while, he felt a stirring of purpose that reached beyond the walls of the brothel, igniting something deep within him—a desire to uncover the truth about his people.
He settled into his chair, a flood of ideas surging through him as he considered the depths of the Axis and their tightly held secrets. Erovik was just a line in the Axis’ datalog, among a huge number of businesses. Most of those businesses were associated with penal colonies, but brothels, trade ships, and even commodities made up the Axis’ intensive web of dealings. They were massive, and whoever ran it had control over vast swaths of the galaxy. As far as he knew, the Axis was a consortium. A group. Not one individual. They kept their identities secret. When Cyprian had to report to them, it was always to a proxy, if in person, or to a communications hub, in which case he spoke to a computer.
Cyprian’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime that signaled someone requesting entry. He glanced at the monitor beside his desk and saw Ria hovering patiently outside his office. “Enter,” he commanded, and the doors parted smoothly to admit his mechanical aide.
“Director Cyprian,” Ria said, her voice gliding over the syllables of his name with mechanical precision. “You requested to see me once Fivra was asleep.”
He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, thank you for coming. I trust she’s settled in?”
“Fivra is resting,” Ria confirmed. “The transition has been overwhelming for her. The comforts of Erovik are a stark contrast to the life she described on her home settlement.”
Cyprian’s gaze sharpened. “Did she reveal anything more about her past? Or about the overseer she mentioned?”
Ria’s sensors flickered in a pattern that Cyprian recognized as her equivalent of a thoughtful pause. “She said nothing new about her experiences prior to her arrival here. However, she did express a strong desire not to become a courtia . She seemed particularly distressed by the idea.”
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest tightening. “I see. And what of her home world?”
“Yes,” Ria replied. “She spoke of a star that provided light for their settlement. It seems she finds the absence of natural light here on the station…unsettling.”
Cyprian rubbed his chin, mulling over the information. A settlement with a star for light, rare Terian females, and an overseer who shared his species—it was a quandary that refused to fit into the neat categories of his world. “Thank you, Ria. You’ve been most helpful. Ensure Fivra is comfortable and see to it that she is not disturbed unless she doesn’t awaken before her medical examination during the next up cycle.”
“Of course, Director.” Ria’s lights dimmed slightly, a sign of her deference. “Is there anything else you require?”
He shook his head, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “No, that will be all. Update me on changes in her behavior or if she relays any additional details about her past.”
“Understood,” Ria said with a slight bow of her metallic form. “I will monitor her closely and report back to you with any new information.”
As Ria glided toward the door, Cyprian’s mind raced ahead. The puzzle of Fivra’s origins demanded his attention. He had a brothel to run, clients to satisfy, and the ever-watchful Axis to appease, but the thought of another Zaruxian overseeing a settlement of Terians was unsettling. It hinted at a larger narrative, one that might explain his own presence in this corner of the galaxy.
The Axis had always been tight-lipped about the specifics of their operations, especially when it came to their penal colonies. Cyprian had learned long ago not to ask questions that would bring unwanted scrutiny upon himself or Erovik. But Fivra had unwittingly dragged him into a web of intrigue that he could not ignore.
He activated the holographic interface on his desk. The air shimmered as data fields sprang to life around him. With deft movements, he sifted through the records of the recent auction on Falmic-5, searching for any mention of Terian females. The information was sparse, but it confirmed that a group of Terian females had indeed been sold. The seller was listed simply as “Contract Fulfillment Services,” a known false title for raiders looking to distance themselves from their wares. So, raiders were involved in their fate, too.
Cyprian’s fingers moved across the interface. He input a request for any data on Zaruxian employees within the Axis’ vast network, knowing it may flag him for an improper request. He also knew it was a long shot that he’d get any information in response. The Axis was notorious for compartmentalizing information and protecting the identities of its agents. But he had to start somewhere.
As he waited for the search to yield results, he found himself hoping that Fivra would find some measure of comfort in her new surroundings. The thought of her waking up to the cold reality of her situation made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries. Females who ended up at Erovik were typically accustomed to a luxurious, but tightly regulated, life. Some didn’t know how to exist without it. There was a certain level of brokenness to all new arrivals at the brothel, but it was the opposite with Fivra.
She wasn’t broken. She was whole and unruined, and fek if he didn’t want to keep her that way. Too bad he couldn’t.