Giano floated within his cabin aboard the high-speed transfer tram, the lone vehicle plying the lone inter-sector tether linking the 7th Sector to the 8th Sector. His golden hair floated in the weightless environment, outlining his regal features and grey eyes. He was dressed in an impeccably-sharp business suit, the right arm of which was embossed with symbolic weaves of gold thread intersecting in iridescent patterns that, when catching the light just right, momentarily manifested into the image of a blade. To the uninitiated, this was a masterwork of tailoring, perhaps the culmination of a lifetime of work by a skilled craftsman. But to those in the know, these patterns attested to the wearer's status and affiliations.
Several decades before, the 7th Sector had been consumed in the fires of conflict, an ostensibly civil war waged by the true power of the 7th Sector. Although the Admiralty were the de jure authority of all the sectors, de facto authority always fell to whoever were best able to exert control in their locality. Control beget violence, and violence begets control. Within the 7th Sector, the true essence of power was exerted by one authority only. One organization who even the Admiralty knew was best ignored unless deliberately antagonized.
The Walkers in Gold, the Chrysos Fabricator Clan.
Giano was an emissary for these highborn individuals. To match the status of this individual and those he represented, the cabin was luxuriously furnished, with elaborately carved wooden décor framing each and every furnishing piece in the room. In the center of the cabin was a plush armchair, covered in exquisitely-tailored fabrics and upholstery. Beside the chair was a small table, atop which sat a crystal tumbler magnetically attached to the table's surface. He stretched out his hand and with some effort, detached the tumbler from the table, bringing it to his mouth. Through the exploitation of surface tension, the rich amber liquid within the tumbler was channeled from the vessel into the man's mouth. Floral notes, punctuated by hints of fruity aromas and finished off by the sting of rich alcohol, flooded his senses as he returned the tumbler to its resting place with a gentle *click*
Giano's momentary appreciation of this fine drink was suddenly interrupted by a recorded voice speaking in the dulcet tones of a woman.
Loudspeaker: COMMENCING ACCELERATION IN TEN, NINE, EIGHT –
He acknowledged the automated cue and maneuvered his mass through the microgravitational environment towards the armchair, passing by a small door embedded in the wall that lead to the in-suite toilet on his flight to the armchair. With a gentle ease, he adjusted his bulk atop the upholstered fabrics in anticipation of the coming load.
Loudspeaker: – TWO, ONE –
The vehicle began to accelerate, and Giano's body reacted with the characteristic inertial resistance, falling into the cushioned embrace of the armchair. The padding and fabrics of the armchair accepted him with the warm embrace of a lover, conforming to each and every curve and ridge of his body, as the acceleration steadily increased to a standard gravity. The screen embedded in the wall directly opposite him lit up, displaying the journey time and current speed. 0.6 kilometers per second after just 1 minute of travel. Remaining journey time estimated at slightly under 14 hours.
Giano nodded to himself, doing the mental arithmetic and coming to a suitably close answer that matched the one provided by the vehicle's systems to several significant figures. Presumably the difference was down to allowances made for embarkment and disembarkment to and from the vehicle, he thought, as he allowed the embrace of the armchair to envelop him in its entirety –
The door to the cabin whizzed open, and a stewardess, a fetching women in a well-fitting dress, wheeled in a trolley atop which several varieties of drinks were nearly stacked alongside all manner of crockery. Their eyes briefly met, before the service staff smiled in the trained manner that only a practiced professional could manage.
Stewardess: "Good morning, my Lord. Are there any drinks or snacks that you are personally interested in today for our journey? We have the finest drinks and the most exquisite little nibbles available in our pantry, prepared by the finest chefs the 7th Sector has to offer! Whatever it is that you desire, we will not disappoint!"
Giano (thinking): As expected of the personal cabins of the Chrysos. Service with a smile, and only the most luxuriant refreshments on standby.
Giano pushed down that thought and returned the stewardess' smile with one of his own. His pearly white teeth shone through the grin; a gesture that appeared to take her momentarily aback.
Giano: "Yes, well, I'll have this platter of hors d'oeuvres, and … this wine, please and thank you."
Stewardess: "Certainly, my Lord. Would you like a refill of your complimentary whiskey tumbler at the same time?"
Giano: "That would be much appreciated, yes."
Giano reached out and handed the tumbler over to the stewardess, who from the looks of it was going to do it herself. Momentarily taken aback once more, the stewardess quickly recovered and proceeded to refill the tumbler with the rich amber liquid.
Giano (thinking): They appear unused to decency. As expected of those who serve the main family.
Stewardess: "Thank you for the orders, my Lord. We will prepare your requested refreshments and return as soon as they are ready."
Giano: "There's no rush. Take your time and prepare it well."
Stewardess: "Understood, my Lord."
The stewardess deeply bowed before Giano and proceeded to wheel her trolley out of the room. The door slid close, and Giano heard the sound of the elevator floor moving as the stewardess headed for the next cabin, either above or below him, to take the next order. As the high-speed transfer tram mimicked gravity with its acceleration along the tether, it was oriented more like a vertical spike with respect to the direction of travel. When Giano had earlier entered his room, the corridor outside was easily traversed by floating down it to his destination. Now under thrust, the corridor was a vertical shaft, only permitting access via an elevator platform. It was fine, for there was nowhere that he needed to go, and the cabin provided all the amenities he could desire.
Giano retrieved a small datapad from within the pockets of his suit and began to scroll through the contents within.
Giano (thinking): The Voidway Auction…the Dimoprasia…why, why would you suddenly call? After all these years, after everything we've been through, why us? Why me?
Thoughts and recollections tinged with the bitter taste of regret and lost opportunities flowed through the recesses of Giano's mind. Fifteen years ago, his family, one of the many branch families of the Chrysos, had lost everything when their only son, on track to become one of the best swordfighters in the 7th Sector, was cruelly and brutally put into a coma during his graduation ceremony. Giano had heard that the perpetrator was one of the other students, but that she had fled after the incident. He'd tried to get recompense for his comatose son, but the perpetrator was blood-kin of the instructor, who was in the good graces of the main family, and thus could not be subjected to any punitive action. He and his branch family had no resources to attempt so in either case, for what savings they had left were all channeled to simply keeping his comatose son breathing for one more day, each and every day.
Giano gritted his teeth, grimacing with recollected fury. That incident continued to haunt him, like the sight of his wizened and enfeebled son hooked up to every manner of life support devices and machinery simply to stay alive, the sight of which was burned into his mind's eye so clearly that he could see it, even now, with his eyes closed.
???: "Enjoying the main family's personal cabins, Giano?"
Giano's eyes snapped open. The screen on the opposing wall was now displaying a face. A wizened man, with the appearance of a man reaching the end of his life. Bleached-gold strands of hair framed his wrinkled features, and yet the sadism and Machiavellian mind residing in that mortal frame shone through like the light of a star behind held back by only layers of plastic.
Giano (thinking): Leopold, it's you, of course it'd be you. Taunting me, even now.
He forced a smile upon his face, faked now, unlike earlier with the stewardess.
Giano: "Lord Chrysos, it is my pleasure to hear from you. To what do I owe the honor of this call?"
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "I am simply checking up on a treasured branch family member. Even though we may not hail from the same mother, we still have the blood of our late father running through us both."
Giano: "Indeed, my lord. Even still, you are the Lord Chrysos, and deserve the respect that your lordship deserves."
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "Agreed. That said, I was surprised that you so quickly accepted my request."
Giano: "How could I deny a personal request from the Lord Chrysos himself? Such would be a grave affront to your lordship."
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "As a branch family member, you are afforded that right. Nevertheless, here you are, so I must assume that you are fully committed to the agreement laid out in my request."
Giano gritted his teeth once more at this empty platitude of familial bonds the Lord Chrysos spoke of, recalling the datapad that had been unceremoniously delivered to his residence, the same datapad that now sat in his palm. He held it up to the screen, recalling the terms laid forth within and the mockery of a contract that the datapad contained.
Giano: "The terms were reasonable enough, my lord. Show up and board this high-speed transfer to the 8th Sector, and the contract becomes in effect. Once the terms are completed, payment in full will be transferred."
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "As it is agreed, so it shall be. Now then, I am here to tell you the terms that are required of you. Giano Aureus Chrysos, you are to attend the Voidway Auction aboard the Dimoprasia on my behalf and secure the Item of Special Interest at all costs. To this end, I have requisitioned personnel and support staff to assist you in accomplishing this goal. They are all aboard this same high-speed transfer that you are now riding. You will take control of them upon reaching the 8th Sector, and head for the ship where the Dimoprasia is currently berthed. Consult the datapad for further details. Are there any questions? Speak freely."
Giano leant back into the armchair, placing the datapad on the nearby table, all the while maintaining eye contact with the image of the Lord Chrysos projected on the screen.
Giano: "Just one, my lord. Why me?"
Giano spoke, with as much faked humility as he could muster. He had to conceal the edge of spite that was threatening to burst out from the depths of his chest. The money in the contract was substantial and would easily provide for his son's medical needs for several years. He could not risk jeopardizing that financial lifeline, even if every fiber of his being wished harm and death upon the Lord Chrysos.
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "Hmm, the answer is simple. We are united here by mutual interest, Giano."
Giano: "The glory of our family is a shared goal –"
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "Nothing as sappy and trite as that, Giano!"
A deep and rumbling laughter spilled forth from the screen, shaking Giano's very soul with the cruelty contained within its baritone notes that the electromechanical speakers could only reproduce a fraction of.
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "No, what I mean is that – Giano, I have reason to believe that the Item of Special Interest may hold the key…to bringing your son back."
Giano's eyes widened, wider than they had ever been before. There was no way for him to conceal this surprise, neither from himself nor from the Lord Chrysos. It was showing, plain as day, upon his face for all the world to see. It was in this moment that Giano realized that he, even though he had always been aware of the Lord Chrysos's nature as a master manipulator, had just fallen for this trap set for him: hook, line and sinker.
Giano: "How?!"
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "Oh? You certainly look interested now! How it will work is...difficult to explain right now. Suffice it to say that I have deemed its mechanism of action credible enough to invest into this recovery mission."
Giano: "Will it work?!"
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "My sources inform me that there is a good chance. But we won't know for sure unless we can secure it. That part now falls to you. If you fail, we won't get another chance for at least the next decade. The Voidway Auction is a once-a-decade event, and we know next to nothing about the Dimoprasia."
Giano grinned madly. The bait had been presented, and it was now too late to try and go back. The only way out of this trap, would be into it.
Lord Leopold Chrysos: "I will still allow you to retreat from the contract, so make haste with your decision. Will you recover that which I desire from the Dimoprasia?"
Giano (thinking); Leopold, you bastard. You knew I'd bite. You mad bastard. The source of my despair, and now the source of my hope. Fine, I'll give this my all. I'll do it. I'll get this damned Item of Special Interest for you. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to save you too, my son!
Giano: "I'll get it done! I swear it, on my honor – my honor as Giano Aureus Chrysos, father of Otakar Aureus Chrysos!"