Chapter 5 #3
Julissa docks the Hopper, and Voss immediately unclasps his seatbelt, shooting up from his seat, grabbing his surge-saber from where he’d stashed it.
As soon as Julissa unseals the door, Voss is out, jumping down to the earth beneath.
Task can see him taking deep breaths of the air, pacing as he slides his surge-saber into the sheath along his back.
Task pretends not to notice, looking over at the ambassador and Grayson instead.
“We have our first meeting with the Minister’s chief of staff in thirty minutes,” Grayson says, standing up and brushing nonexistent wrinkles from his robes. The ambassador stands as well, shrugging his own robes over his black tunic and pants.
Unlike the Nexarium Force, politicians wear the navy and purple robes of the Nexarium elite.
While commonplace on Nexarium, they often feel out of place when they travel to other planets within the Consortium.
They are a symbol more than anything, and Task is just glad he doesn’t have to don the things.
“Then we’d best get moving,” Task says. He sheathes his surge-saber, checking that he also has both his blades stashed at his hip.
Task walks to the open doorway, pausing to talk to Captain Julissa. “We’ll be back by nightfall,” he says. “Occupy yourself until then.”
Task gazes out the window of the airauto, head against the glass as it zooms through downtown Aventia.
Black and gray steel buildings, hundreds of stories high, sprout up into the sky.
Yet it’s not the buildings that catch Task’s attention, it’s the broken windows, the shattered glass that litters the walkways between the metal bridges.
A group of masked people climb out of a window, hands full of paper towels and bread.
Another group carries high-tech electronics with them; Task can just make out someone with a Prism Major.
When the Nexarium Embassy told them people were looting in Aventia, he’d expected it to be minor and on the outskirts, but it was happening in broad daylight. This would never happen on Nexarium, people behaving so blatantly out of line.
He's ripped from his examination of downtown Aventia when he hears a faint cough. Task looks up from where he sits across from the ambassador, frowning a bit. They are en route to the next meeting with Lumaria’s Ministry of Planetary Relations, to finalize the interplanetary commitments outlined in the treaty, before returning to meet with the minister himself for the signing.
“Alright?” Task asks. Voss sits to his right, Grayson next to the ambassador.
The ambassador clears his throat and nods, readjusting the pin on his robes and resetting his glasses on his nose. “Just a scratch.”
Normally, this would not faze Task. But given the information he has, the things they’ve already seen, the cough gives him pause. He remains quiet, not wanting to cause unnecessary alarm.
In the meeting, Task tries to pay attention to the lengthy list of commitments they’re discussing, but he keeps zoning out. He snaps back to reality when he hears the ambassador cough again, and the Lumarian official looks up sharply.
The ambassador clears his throat and waves it off, motioning for the official to continue. Grayson discreetly places a glass of water in front of him. The meeting continues with no other interruptions, and soon they are back in the airauto, being shepherded to the next engagement.
Task feels mostly useless on this journey; he’s not yet caught sight of the woman he’s supposed to kidnap, and it doesn’t appear that anyone is particularly interested in challenging Remulus’ life.
He wonders if he can sneak away for a moment, try to track down Katherine Hart so he can better understand his target.
“Don’t even think about it,” he hears Voss whisper under his breath. “I can see the cogs in your brain turning. If you leave this party, Draven will have your head.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Task retorts. “I’m too important to him.”
“Your ego is painful,” Voss replies.
“It’s the truth,” Task says.
And it is. Task is Draven’s best assassin, and Draven had indicated his desire to name Task as heir to the Governorship several months ago.
He hadn’t done it yet, always telling Task he needed to be certain he could trust him with such a lofty title, and the tasks kept coming.
Even so, Draven had no heirs, and if Task was his best option, Draven wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.
Except perhaps extend his own life indefinitely, but that was beside the point.
“If Draven won’t put you in your place, I will,” Voss says, his tone biting. Task notices he’s slipped into colonel mode and decides not to say anything further.
“Where are we headed?” Task asks Grayson.
Grayson looks up from the document he’s scrolling through on his Prism. “Unscheduled detour.”
Task raises an eyebrow. “On whose orders?”
“Draven has sent a request for us to meet with the Jaguar,” Grayson explains, shrugging as if this is a common activity, though it is not at all.
The Jaguar is a known smuggler, dealing in antiquities, rare minerals, and illicit substances.
Task is unsure why Draven would have set this meeting, what he could need from a smuggler that he couldn’t already get his hands on as Governor of Nexarium.
Task has never met him before, only heard the lore from his uncle and other Guardians in the Force.
An elusive man, evading capture over a hundred times.
He nods, once, noting this is the second time that he’s been caught entirely unaware by Draven.
First, Voss’ trip to Syndaris to collect payment from the colonel for the pink salt two weeks ago.
Now, a meeting with the Jaguar about something he has no insight into.
It’s difficult to be prepared when he has no advance warning.
“And where is this meeting to take place?” Voss asks, leaning forward in his seat. “I haven’t had a chance to canvass the location. It’s a risk to simply turn up, and our group is not exactly inconspicuous.”
“We’re meeting him at l’Aurore for lunch. We have time before we meet with the minister,” Grayson replies haughtily. Task has never liked him, has found him to be arrogant. Grayson has never had to face hardship, never lost men in battle, yet he walks around as though he deserves everything.
“I should at least sweep the perimeter before we enter,” Voss grumbles, tapping through a map that he’s pulled up on his watch display. Task can tell he’s annoyed by this unscheduled detour. He understands why. This is a risk that Draven would not normally take.
The ambassador coughs again, and Task looks at him sharply. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Fine,” he says again. “Draven’s communique explained this meeting is critical to Nexarium’s national security, so we must take it.
There is nothing in the Jaguar’s history that directly links him to illicit activity.
We are comfortable conducting the meeting at l’Aurore, and the clientele there are discreet.
We’ve hosted many covert meetings there before.
You and Walther can canvass the interior and exterior beforehand, if it makes you comfortable. ”
Task is not paying attention to most of the ambassador’s words, hooked on the phrase “critical to Nexarium’s national security.” In what possible way could this meeting with the Jaguar be critical to that particular objective?
He sits silently, looking out the window as Voss grumbles his assent. It looks like they will be meeting with the Jaguar, whether Task and Voss like it or not.