Chapter 7 The Calculating Twin, Rafe
THE CALCULATING TWIN, RAFE
I exhale slowly, refusing to let my irritation unravel my carefully maintained composure. My gaze meets all of my hotel managers’ eyes around the table.
“Train. Your. Staff.” I slice each word with deliberate precision. “Ensure every guest and their cargo undergo thorough checks when they set foot in any of our hotels. These Intergalactic Court fines could have been avoided if you all had done your jobs properly.”
The tap of my fingers on the tabletop echoes with a metallic resonance, fueling the tension in the room. I can practically smell their fear. They look like Imperial crabs caught in a plasma net, paralyzed by the mere suggestion that they confront a smuggler head-on.
“Sovereign,” says the general manager of Huntress One, “the Dulu pirates had top-of-the-line cloaking technology that bypassed our scans. But—”
I cut him off. “Then you should have used your good Imperial eyes that the goddesses gave you to inspect the cargo yourself. All of you need to do better.”
I rise, letting my full seven-foot-three frame tower over them.
Where my twin, Lorian, might have flung the nearest offender against a wall to make his point, I prefer intimidation by word, rank, and presence.
My tailored charcoal suit shifts with me, briefly revealing the ornate hilt of the plasma dagger at my thigh, an unusual boardroom accessory, but Lorian and I haven't built the Ascendant Alliance on savvy business deals alone.
“I don't need the IGC breathing down our necks on smuggling charges,” I continue. “They've already announced Tribune Jin Kol will be returning to the Grand Championships to confirm that all human pets are there voluntarily.”
Anxiety ripples through the room.
“And you know what is worse than being fined for having illegal humans on-site?” I let the silence hold for a good minute.
No one dares move or answer. “Having those illegal humans abducted on our property. As you all well know from what happened last year. If it happens again, we’ll have both the IGC and disgruntled trainers demanding compensation.Draining our profits from every angle. ”
I settle back into my chair, adjusting the silver band that has never left my hand since our mother gave Lorian and me identical rings when she named us her successors.
Many balked at her decision—two sons and with no sister to temper us.
But she was confident in our abilities. And when death came for her sooner than it should have, those rings became our claim.
Her properties on Reima Two formed the foundation.
From there, we carried her vision outward, expanding the Ascendant Alliance into the man’s sphere in the galaxy.
The Ascendant Alliance is not just a business for us; it is a testament to our parents' sacrifice.
They surrendered their Imperial standing so Lorian and I would not grow up as Outcasts on the margins of Imperial society.
We will not disgrace that choice with incompetence.
“Now,” I say, shifting the subject, “how is our recruitment on Earth going? We need human employees now more than ever at the Spire.”
Cal, the manager of Terra Sanctum on Earth, nods, though his holographic image crackles every few seconds. “Yes, Sovereign. Earth transmitted another 'search for alien life' signal two days ago; it met all the IGC standards for formal contact, which gave us our legal recruitment window.”
“And our selected candidate?”
“Eve Eden is en route as planned, Sovereign. Everything we discussed last year has been implemented perfectly. She signed the contract without hesitation and asked very few questions. Her psychological profile matches your requirements exactly.”
“Good.” After the Yasmin debacle, we weren’t just going to take anyone from Earth.
“What about Dubai?” I turn to the holographic figure of Khalil, manager of our most profitable Middle Eastern property.
“You were supposed to provide the other human. We discussed the importance of pairs for psychological stability.”
Khalil's image flickers. “Sovereign, there was an unforeseen complication. Our selected candidate, Magda, developed a romantic attachment we were unaware of, and she refused the position because her boyfriend had proposed marriage and her parents agreed. There was nothing we could do short of abducting her.”
“You let a human female on a patriarchal planet choose a husband over a career opportunity worth more credits than most humans will see in a lifetime?”
“Sovereign, I—”
“How could you allow emotional entanglements to develop when you knew we needed her? This was planned over an Earth year ago, Khalil. A year of careful psychological profiling and conditioning.”
Cal clears his throat diplomatically. “Sovereign, if I may.
I anticipated this possibility and took precautions with Eve's entertainment package.
I've provided her with extensive human media, literature, and recreational programs. She is exceptionally independent and accustomed to solitude. I think she will adapt to isolation better than most.”
“That is not sufficient,” I snap. “Humans are social creatures. Even the most independent require companionship of their own kind, eventually. The last thing I need is a depressed human breaking down during the Championships, especially with Tribune Jin Kol scrutinizing every interaction.”
I drum my fingers on the table, calculating the alternatives. Purchasing a human companion from the slave markets would contradict our narrative of “voluntary employment.”
Then, the obvious solution presents itself. “Lira,” I announce. “I'll assign Lira as the human receptionist’s trainer and companion.”
Several managers exchange glances. Lira is my most capable receptionist, poached from a competing Reima Two hotel chain at considerable expense. She has an instinctive understanding of diplomatic protocol and guest psychology.
“Sovereign,” ventures the general manager of the Spire, “is Lira not overqualified for training duties? She handles our most prestigious guests.”
“That is exactly why she is perfect. Eve needs to learn our standards quickly, and she needs someone who can serve as both mentor and companion. Lira has the temperament to befriend a human without compromising her professionalism. More importantly, Lira is utterly loyal to the Alliance. If Eve shows signs of instability or disloyalty, Lira will report it immediately.”
Cal nods approvingly. “An excellent solution, Sovereign. With Lira's guidance and the entertainment package, Eve should adapt beautifully to her new role.”
I activate Eve's profile on the holographic display in the center of the table. Her face materializes in soft blue light. Eve Eden, a human female with long brown hair and big brown eyes.
“She appears adequate for our needs,” I say, though adequate hardly describes the meticulous selection process that led to her recruitment. “Cal, are you certain no one will come looking for her?”
“I am certain, Sovereign. As we established, she has no family, minimal social connections, and a history of disappearing into her work. Her absence will be attributed to the promotion everyone believes she has received.”
“Excellent. When does she arrive at the Spire?”
“In six days, Sovereign. She is en route as we speak. Rae from Interspecies Resources is scheduled to meet her at Falcon Station.”
“Good,” I say, and dismiss the group. One by one, the managers file out or wink off their holographic feeds.
I let Eve Eden's image linger, studying her features. In six days, she will walk into the Celestial Spire believing she is starting a new career. What she will actually be starting is a carefully orchestrated operation that serves multiple purposes.
First, she will convince Tribune Jin Kol that humans are voluntary participants in the Grand Championships.
Second, and just as importantly, she will serve as bait for Terra Ka operatives.
Gael the Returner has been too quiet since last year's security breach.
And I have no doubt a beautiful, seemingly vulnerable human employee might be exactly what we need to draw him out.
Of course, she will never know that she is our bait.
Finally, Eve will be an example to the galaxy that humans can be more than pets.
That they all do not need to be kept on leashes.
If she performs well in these roles, excellent. If she fails... it will be more evidence to confirm what many people already believe about humans, that they are not fit to be our galactic equals.
Once I’m completely alone, I open a private channel. “Lira,” I say, once I see my star receptionist answer from her desk at the Celestial Spire, “you’ll be assigned to the new human liaison. Treat her as a friend, not staff. She’ll need someone she believes she can trust.”
“How much may I tell her?”
“Everything that keeps her steady. Denise, Yasmin, even the rumors about Lorian—your role isn’t to protect her from secrets. It’s to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”
“Understood, Sovereign.”
As soon as I end my communication with Lira, a discreet tone signals an incoming message from my brother. I don't need to read it to know he's somewhere stirring up trouble.
Found something interesting. I won’t be home for a few days. Might bring back souvenirs.
Translation: He is pursuing a personal escapade, most likely illegal, and will return with contraband, company, or both.
I massage the bridge of my nose, already preparing for the inevitable fallout. Still, I could never envision running this company without him.
Try not to spark an interstellar incident. The human arrives in six days.
His reply comes instantly:
Only one?
Yes, but the important one. Eve Eden.
Still planning to use her as bait?
The operation will proceed as planned.
Do you think she's appealing enough to tempt our old friend, Gael?
I study Eve's rotating image. A few months of clean living at the Celestial Spire will enhance her natural beauty.
The exhaustion that shadows her features now from poverty and pollution will be replaced by a healthy glow.
Then I think she will be irresistible to Gael's protective instincts to “save” her.
More than adequate for our purposes.
Good. I look forward to meeting her.
The implications in that statement make me frown.
She is an operational asset, Lorian. Not a plaything.
Of course. Strictly business.
I lower my IC, exhaling slowly. Eve Eden's arrival will require delicate management, especially if my twin decides to take a personal interest. She is coming to the Spire expecting a simple receptionist position.
What she will find is a world of alien aristocrats, interplanetary criminals, and political machinations that make Earth's petty dramas seem quaint.
Before I close her file, I notice that the algorithm has flagged her for standard human compliance conditioning at Falcon Station that will take an entire day.
I pause. Her psychological profile isn’t the same as most humans.
She’s too clever and too aware to have to suffer through standard compliance conditioning.
She’s no human pet, she’s my employee. I override the IGC flag and reroute her clearance manually.
My only justification to Falcon Station is my rank.
Then, I hesitate before closing her file. My finger hovers over the button, but instead of closing it, I decide to dive deeper. I find the Imperial ship she’s traveling on and access her medical exam.
I stare at the line:
Orgasm threshold reached at 2.8 minutes.
I read it again.
I feel angry in a way that is primal. Not chivalrous or born out of concern, but from possession.
That Imperial doctor touched what belongs to me.
Eve Eden signed my contract. She accepted my uniform.
And I don't allow strangers to calibrate my employees; what I intend to control.
I will make it clear from the moment she arrives that the next time she needs regulation, she will come to me and I will give it to her.