"Idiots!" a folder slammed on the desk, spitting out loose papers to flutter to the floor.
He had a headache. Aran had only just been appointed the Lordship in his fathers stead at the age 20. It worried his peers that at such a young age his father, a prominent alpha in society, had already thought it right to pass on the title. Many in the elite felt threatened by him and not a month after his appointment he was given the task of auditing the birthing camps in the southern reaches. Well away from the capital.
He was currently in the main office of the Mercadale birthing camp. A stale room, with floor to ceiling shelves full of files and 2 lonely desks in the middle. The documentation at these facilities was essential. Every insemination, every birth, medical records, documented for analysis by the Delta hub in the capital. For use to learn how to increase omega "production". Also, just as importantly, to stop accidental inbreeding.
The birthing camps had been every bit as disgusting as he had expected. He had audited 13 camps already but this one in Mercadale was in a particularly deplorable state. Most of the records handwritten in illegible handwriting. He was convinced there were reports missing. He was convinced the records did not match up to those input into the central database. But he couldn't have imagined how far they varied.
"5 death in the last year. Malnutrition! And why the hell are the omegas chained? They are not animals!" he yelled.
He had gone straight to the main office upon arriving. On his way in he was horrified as he passed the small barred rooms. Even at a glance he could see the décor and furnishings all clearly aged. The one omega he met in the corridor was being walked like a dog on a leash. His "handler" holding a strap attached to a collar around his neck and feet shackled together.
The beta clerks who manned this office cowered where they stood. "Sorry sir it was on Duke Kingston's orders sir. To prevent mor... err... to prevent runaways."
"Pah! Useless." He picked up another file. And started to flick through the reports. How had this facility kept running in such a state? Who had been keeping track of the records? He had barely been in the facility 30 minutes and it was clear this facility was badly managed.
Something the clerk had said pricked his thoughts. Runaways? These omega should be in want of nothing but that was clearly not the case. It's no wonder they want to leave considering the state they are in. "Have there been?"
"Been? Sir" one of the clerks stammered out looking at the floor avoiding eye contact.
Aran sat up straight and narrowed his eyes at the man. He spoke in slow low voice.
"Have there been any, runaways?"
Sir I..I..I.." The man seemed to lose the ability to create a coherent sentence.
Aran switched his interrogation the other younger clerk who seemed a bit calmer.
"You do realise the implications if an Omega has ..."
"Sir there have not been any runaways in the last 16 year" the second clerk interrupted quickly, clearly thinking he had cleared the matter. Far from it.
"Sixteen years you say." Aran stood up and walked over the archive documents from 16 years ago.
"Lieutenant Grey!" He called to the thin man who had been sitting stiffly at one of the desks. This strange thin man was wearing a uniform that looked closer to a hazmat suit. Covering all his body, his face the only part visible through the clear plastic shield. "Go through these records for me." The man bowed his head slightly as Lords Aran took 4 folders from the shelf and dropped them on the desk to be examined.
Lord Aran sat down heavily in the other desk chair, closed his eyes while he waited. The room was silent for 10 minutes broken only by the swift turning of the pages and the nervous shuffling of the clerks.
"Sir, I have... The information... You require." The lieutenant finally spoke in a wheezy clipped voice.
The clerks looked at each other confused. What could that man possibly have found in that amount of time?
"The Omega. A Miss Janice Krieger." Aran quirked his eyebrow at that name. "Inseminated by a. Reginald Harvet. Gave birth. To a living Omega. On the 14th of this month. Sixteen years ago. There are no further records."
"What do you mean no further records?" Lord Aran all but snapped.
"As I said." The lieutenant continued in the same tone, though seemingly getting out of breath the more he spoke. "Specifically. No medical records. No receipt. From the Alpha family. No record of her. Leaving the facility." The man paused to take in several deep breaths before continuing. "In fact. Sir. There appear to be. A number of. Missing records. From this particular. Omega's file. Perhaps. It is not unique.. To this one case..I would like to"
"yes, yes" Aran waved his hand dismissively. He could see his lieutenant was eager but it was best not to strain himself speaking. "After I get a full account of this omega. Use your clearance to also compare ALL records with the central database."
That woman was not just any Omega. Her lineage itself had to be verified of course, but the loss of such a valuable omega would have caused a scandal. He must have been only been 4 at the time perhaps he simply doesn't remember it. Still, the question remained how did the Kingston family keep hold of this facility following such an event?
Standing up Lord Aran walked over to the clerks the older clearly trembling. The younger probably too young to have been here at the time. Was this why the older clerk was so nervous.
"Your facility lost not only one Omega but a child as well. Why is the escape not documented properly?"
No answer
"Please tell me the mother and child were found again." He looked at them incredulously.
Again, no answer. The clerks went pale. "N no one know h-h-how she got out sir. It was suspected she might have been a witch all that was found was some items in a hedge. If if she had done some sort of spell to escape she probably killed herself and her baby." The Older clerk stammered out.
Aran had had enough. "Lieutenant! Interrogate this man and any other staff that were here during the incident. I want a full report!" with that he stormed out of the room.
His head was pounding. He hated these places and what it stood for. It was an old case but if he could do anything to step forward to their destruction he would follow it. He took the car back to Kingstons complex looking forward to a few hours rest before dinner.
Lord Aran peered out the window at the passing scenery. The patchwork of farmlands and orchards a much more pleasant view to what he had grown up with. This area, Mercadale, was under the authority of Duke Kingston. A man Lord Aran knew little about, which in itself is bad enough but worse was what little he did know about the man.
The Duke had welcomed him will all respect that he should have expected to his title. He was not impressed by the exuberant display of wealth the Duke tried to show off during his initial obligatory tour of complex Kingston called home. Of course the Duke was a wealthy man with acres of fertile farmland and a birthing camp under his care. But Lord Aran was also a wealthy man, but unlike his host, his power in the capital was much greater due to the estates he had inherited. Duke Kingston clearly seemed overly confident of gaining Lord Arans approval at first. That hope had clearly been dented when Lord Aran requested immediate access to make a initial visit to the birthing camp before resting, the Duke had little authority to restrict access.
Perhaps, it would have been wise to rest first and then be able to make a better assessment of what was needed here. but Lord Aran knew he needed to make a statement that he was here for a purpose and was not going to be distracted by any "entertaining distractions" his host might have planned. Even in his brief visit had already proved the birth camp facility at Marcadale was not as it should be.
The car arrived back at the main complex. Aran didn't enter the main building where his room was located. Instead, he walked to the barracks where he was told his staff had been housed. Not as luxurious as his rooms Aran mused in grim humour walking into the functional building.
The Duke had been appalled when he realised Lord Aran did not bring the usual force of Alpha and beta staff and servants to accompany him. No, Aran had brought a carefully selected group of Gammas and Deltas along with him. Lieutenant Grey being the head of his Delta team. There was little doubt in Arans mind that this accommodation was not what the Duke had originally set aside.
He nodded to his people as he entered the common room dedicated to his people. A plain room with a long table, wooden chairs on one side and assorted armchairs to the other. "Hart, Jarert, Coal. Please be on stand by, Lieutenant Grey will most likely be contacting you soon to assist in his investigation." He directed to the Delta's gathered around the table. As if on cue their phone's chimed, no doubt with tasked assigned to each of them. Moments later they were fully focused on their laptop screens.
Delta's are born with fantastic analytical brains, able to process data at extraordinary speed. Many advancements of science, technology and farming have come from the so call Delta hubs. Specially prepared complexes for Deltas to live and work, protected from illnesses and conflicts of the outside world. They are, as a rule, are cold and calculating creatures that act on the most efficient course of action despite it's moral or emotional cost. Some say they have no emotions at all. "Gender-neutral creatures that can self fertilise have little need for such things." his father had always said. It was a risk to take some of them out of the hub but, considering task he was commissioned with, the council had reluctantly agreed.
He looked to the 15 Gamma's that made up the rest of his team. Their bulky frame dwarfed the armchairs they sat in. "Be on guard. I think we may have stumbled upon something that will upset our host." The gamma's smirked.
Contrary to popular belief Gamma's are not idiots. Lower than average intelligence does not make all of them the lowest of the low. The group Aran now spoke to now, in fact, was a group of the smartest Gamma's he had met and he had met few beta's that could match them. Of course, narrow-minded people like the Duke would look down on them for their species fault but Lord Aran knew better. He spoke together with them for a while making sure they had been settled well and treated appropriately before excusing himself because of his headache.
Gratefully he had managed to navigate the mansion without bumping into the Duke. Unsure he would be able to be civil to the man at this moment. In Aran's eyes, the main mansion was no better than a brothel, where the elite come to bed the men and woman brought out from the birthing camps. Normal visitors would never enter the camps. As he entered the room he took in the décor. A grand four-poster bed with net curtains placed centrally. The crisp satin sheets were clearly new, thank goodness. In one corner a good-sized desk and chair and in the other a leather sofa, coffee table and TV and entertainment centre. All the furnishings a classic but modern style, unlike his bags still to be unpacked at the end of the bed.
Opening a side pocket of a smaller satchel he retrieved some much-needed painkillers and swallowed them without any water. He looked at the bags guiltily, torn between unpacking or getting a quick nap to let his head recover. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it to unpack. He closed the doors again with a snap. Hands still gripping the handles he pressed his head against the mahogany wood. Wishing he had not just seen the selection of bondage equipment, whips and other sex toys that had been displayed so carefully on the other side.
"He just need a good night with an Omega and I'm sure he will loosen ups a bit" He winced remembering the words and laugher of his peers. He was in no doubt some of them had hopes he would be tempted to indulge himself in the poor "wenches". It appeared staying with the Duke for the next week was going to be more trying than even his previous hosts.
Unpacking could wait. He pushed himself off the wardrobe doors and walked wearily over to the inviting bed. His head was still pounding. Before collapsing on the covered he reached behind his ears and peeled off a patch from either side dis-guarding them with a frustrated flick. Most likely the culprit from his current headache. Then lay down for a much needed rest.