Epilogue #2
"It is far worse than we thought," Binwee announced, striding to the bar.
She poured herself a generous glass of brandy and slung it back with one swallow, her throat working as the liquid burned its way down.
"According to the records we uncovered, not only is Declan Hewes behind the human slave trade…
he is embedded in all slave trade within the Alliance.
An enterprise seemingly protected by several planetary governments and royal families. "
"Fuck!" Ako snorted, the word exploding from him with vehemence.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Serna bit back a smile. Ako was extraordinarily fond of human curse words. This particular curse being one of his mate's favorites as well.
Binwee's fingers wrapped around the crystal decanter once more, the brandy sloshing against the sides as she poured herself another generous measure.
"It also appears, based on the communication logs we've decrypted, that Hewes has somehow established a method of communicating with his cohorts in Alliance space from Earth—a feat that should be technologically impossible. "
"Which means as long as he remains sequestered on Earth, he will continue to be a problem beyond our reach," Serna said, her voice heavy.
"Could we not request that Earth's governments place him in one of their prisons?" Binwee asked before she belched softly and poured herself a third glass of brandy with slightly less steady hands.
"My daughter-in-law Willa informs me that many of Earth's prisons are like something she calls Club Med—apparently a resort of some kind—and that several criminal empires run from behind bars with shocking efficiency.
" Her eldest son Charick's mate, Willa, was a human female, a fierce warrior in her own right who showed an unexpected affinity for the intricate dance of politics.
"He needs to be on a prison planet like," Ako's deep voice broke slightly, the crack in his composure revealing a raw wound beneath, "Palaydium."
Serna's heart twisted painfully at his words, knowing how much it cost Ako to speak them. Nansar, Ako and Helene's eldest son, was currently serving a 50-year sentence on Palaydium. Though manipulated by the criminal Yaard, Nansar had participated in an assassination attempt on his own father.
An encrypted force field prohibited all travel and communication with the prison planet, cutting inmates off completely from the outside universe.
The only way Ako and Helene maintained any contact with their son was due to the fact that Serna had arranged for Nansar to possess a communication device capable of penetrating planetary encryption—the only such device on all of Palaydium.
Part of her wanted to leave Hewes to Earth's governments.
She rose from the sofa with a weary sigh, crossing to the arched window.
Her fingers traced the cool glass as she gazed out at the night sky, where the pale moon hung like a luminous pearl against the velvet darkness.
The streets were quiet at this hour, empty save for the occasional patrol, but she knew all too well the hundreds of displaced individuals living in the temporary shelters scattered throughout.
Refugees who struggled to adapt to the reality of being stolen from their homes, lives torn apart by the slave trade.
Because of Hewes. Because she failed to stop him when she'd had the chance.
Her gaze flickered back toward Ako, eyes catching on the gleam of polished metal displayed on the mantelpiece—a commendation medal her youngest son had won during his warrior training, the surface etched with intricate symbols of honor and valor.
A medal not unlike the one she'd seen in the photograph of Harper receiving posthumous recognition for her husband's bravery and sacrifice.
"Do you recall what Harper said about Hewes being present at her husband's Medal of Valor ceremony?" Serna asked, her mind turning over the pieces of a puzzle that was slowly beginning to take shape.
"Yes, why?" Ako drained his glass in one long swallow, the crystal catching the firelight as he set it down with a decisive clink. Binwee was quick to refill it, the brandy splashing generously into the tumbler.
"The way Willa explained it to me, Medal of Valor ceremonies are formal affairs with very strict guest lists—mostly limited to family and close friends, especially if the President awards the medal, which, from the photograph of Harper, we know happened.
" Serna's voice grew more animated as the idea crystallized.
"So?" Ako pressed, his brow furrowing with confusion as he tried to follow her reasoning.
"Hewes was in attendance, which means he has to know someone positioned high enough within the government to obtain an invitation," Serna explained.
"We already know Hewes is connected with many Earth governments," Ako reminded her, though the furrow creasing his broad brow deepened, suggesting he might suspect her of suffering from late-night delirium.
Serna smiled. She knew that fact perfectly well. She was counting on it.
She tapped the surface of her wrist comm, the device emitting a soft blue glow as it activated. A moment later, a sleepy, distinctly aggravated voice crackled through the speaker. "Yes, my Lady?"
"Sahikas, pardon the late hour," Serna said, her voice carrying genuine regret for the intrusion but remaining firm. "I need to have my ship prepared and ready to depart first thing in the morning."
"Yes, my lady." Sahikas sounded far too sleepy to process the request properly, his words slurred with exhaustion, but he would not fail her. He never did.
"Depart?" Ako straightened in his chair, eyeing her warily with a mixture of concern and curiosity etched across his features. "Where are you going?"
Binwee watched curiously, nursing her fifth glass of brandy.
Serna turned from the window, the moonlight silhouetting her frame as a sly smile played across her lips.
"Earth. I need to speak to the American President."