Shane
"Wake up, Shane." My father shouts throughout the door while pounding it.
"What do you want father?"
Turning around I try to hide under the blanket, I'm still so damn tired.
"Don't give me that tone." He reprimands me, "We are going on a diplomatic trip together."
"But Why? I'm not in one of your diplomatic corps, you never took me with you before. And I planned to go with my friends to the new art gallery opening in the evening. I told you this."
"Young man, as long as you are placing your feet under my table, you will play by my rules, you will come with me."
My father shouts angrily after finally just opening the door like I have no privacy at all. Turning on the lights to prove his point, he angrily glares at me while I slouch out of bed.
"Go shower, my assistant will bring you some suitable to wear. And don't bother packing. I already let someone prepare a case with suitable clothing for you. That befits the son of a diplomat, not the rags you call Clothing. You have 30 minutes to prepare and come down to join me for breakfast," He tells me while turning and walking out the door.
I don't understand why he cares at all. Since coming out to him two weeks ago after my 21. Birthday, he hadn't spoken to me. Looking at my dresser, at the photo of my mother, a beautiful, feisty ginger woman, I remember today is her anniversary of death.
Since then, my dad has just got stricter with me. Why do I need to go on that trip? Only two more weeks and I would be at the university doing my second semester in galactic arts and cultures. Couldn't he just leave me alone till then? I already planned to stay with my friend this semester. Now that I got my inheritance from my mother's family side, I could afford to move out of here.
Going in the adjoined bathroom. I shower quickly. When I come back with only my towel around my hips, I see that there is a set of clothing on my bed.
I dry speedily and put my clothes on. Opening my door, I walk out, down the stairs, and turn left to our dining room. My Father is already sitting with his assistant Wesley, discussing something. Then quieting down when I walk in. I feel a bit awkward.
"Good morning, Wesley, thanks for the clothes."
I choose the most faraway chair I can get away with from my father and sit down. Our Butler Harrison serves me some delicious homemade pancakes with syrup and fruits as a side dish.
"Young master, do you want tea, coffee, or some fruit juice? We have…" he started to say when I interrupt,
"My usual tea is fine, Harrison, thank you."
I look at my dad, who is staring at me.
"Son, we will go together to Xertia in the Centurion System."
"But isn't that like five days by hyperspace travels away, dad? I start school in two weeks."
"Calm down, you will be back till then."
He tries to reassure me. But I get the feeling that something isn't right.
"Why do you need me there?"
But he already started to ignore me talking to his assistant. I look to Harrison, but he only shakes his head. Trying to overcome that unnerving feeling, sipping on my earl grey tea spiced with cinnamon and added milk. I begin to eat my breakfast.
-------
After breakfast, I go back to my room, trying to find information on Xertia. I only find out that they have a trade treaty with us. They are no longer a part of the federation, like most races in the known universe. The federation is a big democracy, with three representatives of every race that is a member of it. On each planet are senators and diplomats representing the races living there. Diplomats answer to the Senators and the Senators to the three representatives of their race. The Senators and representatives get voted by their people every 5 years. For each race, there are around 500 to 600 Senators. The Senators then employ diplomats to help them with their various tasks. My father is one of hundred diplomats for human enterprises across the galaxy, trade routes, business with allied races.
But from the history I get, the planet itself seems in uproar after the murder of the late king and his family 13 years ago.
The high council of Xertia then elected a new king his name is Ro-Yji. King Ro-Yji made the federation responsible for that heinous act, which the federation denied. The true culprits behind the murder and the resulting civil uproar are still unknown. Since then, communications, trade, and any other contact with outsiders have gone back to a minimum. So why father gets sent there then, I just don't understand.
The Federation officially declined any help to the rebels, even when it seems the new king is a tyrant.
The Xertians have three genders, but all are male as we define them at least. I mean to them we are the strange ones. There seem to be big burly muscled that are called Alphas. They have two curved horns on their heads. Then there are betas non-breeders most of them look like a human. They are of average build and not so big as the alphas. They have small horns on their heads. The number of those small horns variates. Then there are Omegas the child-bearers, they can be impregnated by those alphas. They are soft build and short. They only have one small protrusion on the head.
There are rumors the Xertian are shapeshifters, but nobody knows in what they shift.
While I was absorbed in my research, I lost track of time. After what seems only like a half hour but was, in reality, two full hours, someone knocked on my door.
"Shane, get ready to depart our transit to the spaceport is here."
I get up from my desk and shut off my tablet. After packing it in my bag with my art utensils, I slung it over my shoulder and go downstairs. Outside it was a warm spring breeze going like all those years ago.
"Dad, its moms' anniversary, can we please make at least a short stop on her grave?"
My father is looking at me like I grew a second head. For a moment, I fear he will deny me.
"Wes, how much time we have till we must depart?"
"We have 20 minutes to spare Mr. Barker."
Wesley replies after checking on his tablet.
"You heard Wes," he replies while boarding the transit.
I let out a relieved breath and enter the transit after my dad. I hear him giving our pilot the coordinates for the graveyard and orders to wait for us for 20 minutes and then bring us to the spaceport.