Waterstrider

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

The corporation that Nahalken wished us to deal with was simply called Ersico Health Solutions. It was a pharmaceutical company that focused on treating illness among the Staiven. This was where the conflict of interest with the Venin Group’s subsidiary, Venin Pharmaceuticals emerged.

The product in question was a remedy for an uncommon genetic illness among the race, a failure for the body to produce certain chemicals. The competing products both caused that function to kickstart, and their effectiveness lasted for days.

Of course, the technology existed to use gene editing to remove the condition entirely, but research into that matter would not only not make much profit, but would also eliminate the profit that came from selling symptom relief drugs. For that reason, even if the technology had been developed somewhere within the Pantheonic Territory, it had yet to arrive in Tseludia.

All of this information had been given out by Eli and Rachel, who had used their respective information channels to bring us as much background knowledge as possible. It was two days since Nahalken had brought us the task, and we were still well within the time I had promised him, that we would get this done within a week’s time. I had purposefully said it would take longer than I expected it to account for any potential issues. After all, once our two information sources found out the factory’s layout and security measures, the request should become rather trivial for us.

“There are three parts to this mission,” Rachel said. “First, we’ll render the factory inoperable. I expect we can just smash up the equipment and set a fire, and that will be fine. Second, we need to steal as much of value as we can get away with, to help with the sect’s finances.” At this point, Ran nodded, very much in agreement. She had been run ragged over the past few weeks doing everything she could to scrounge up money, something which was running into its natural limits. “Thirdly,” continued Rachel, “We want to make it look like an accident, so the Justice Office stays off our backs. Off of the Venin Group’s back as well, since we all know they would sell us out if they had to. We simply don’t have the funds to pay any judges off this time.”

This matter resulted in a number of nods of agreement around the table. The third point was ultimately the most important one, as we all knew.

“Jihan, you’ll be leading your squad to handle the matter. Rachel will join you, and she’ll be telling you which items to take and where to light the charges.”

He nodded at the orders.

“I will not let you down.”

“Ran,” I said, turning to her. “You’ll be communicating with Rachel to decide what you think you will and will not be able to sell at a black market.”

“Of course, Sect Leader.”

There was a slight mechanical buzz, and Eli pulled out a tablet to see what the matter was.

“My informant just found us information on their security. It seems like they’re only using mechanical defenses.”

“What? That’s unusual.”

Rachel’s eyes unfocused for a moment, looking at something the rest of us could not see.

“This is good. It should be rather simple to deal with for Jihan’s group. I’m concerned about who they linked these alarms to. It’s possible they contracted mercenaries or gangsters to arrive if someone breaks in.”

Knowing Staiven corporations, such a matter would not surprise me in the slightest. They were all extremely careful about security, as those with poor security would inevitably be robbed or sabotaged.

“Overall though, I think we’re-”

Rachel frowned, pausing in the middle of her sentence and staring off into space as if she had suddenly seen something shocking.

“Shit!” she cursed. “There’s a complication, though it might also be an opportunity.”

“Hm?” I glanced over, surprised by the interruption.

She gave an awkward smile to the rest of us.

“I had expected it to be the Hadal Clan and the Heirs of Ottrien, but…”

“What happened?” I asked, alarmed.

The expression on Rachel’s face was that of concern and confusion.

“It seems war has broken out in Otan.”

“What?”

Otan, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

The interesting thing about Exid Queens was how much they seemed to gravitate towards one another despite clearly wishing for the other’s downfall. It was this disunity that made the district seem ripe for the taking, but of course it would lose all value if the Exid workers were to cease their industry. To conquer Otan, one needed to subordinate the Queens and their corporations. It was no small task, but the Leader had long noted it as the easiest target of conquest out of all of the other underworld forces, due to the disunity of the Queens. Moreover, the profits that might be acquired from an industrial district such as this one was immense. To control an Exid Queen was to take a share in the profits of the entire district.

As the heart of Tseludia’s industry, the district of Otan, and the Exid by extension, were protected to a certain extent by the great corporations. But all the corporations cared about was that the factories continued to operate without ceasing. They did not care who was in control.

Triezal had long been working on the problem of Otan, set upon him by the Leader. Most of his preparations had been ruined by the distraction that was the hunt for the Riverfiend and his Shade, and so Triezal needed to start over, almost from the beginning. The plan he had ultimately created was both simple and complex. If they were to simply attack one of the Queendoms, their forces would fall under the relentless tides of the workers. It would take the might of a Titan to break through, and they did not dare bring to bear such a force of destruction knowing what reprisal it would prompt from the government.

Instead, Triezal had chosen to target the weakness of the Exid: the queens themselves. While the armies were unstoppable by force, if he could sneak a force into one of the Queen’s chambers, perhaps they could threaten her enough to force her to surrender. From what Triezal knew of their culture, it was that while the Queens were vicious and cruel, they were not liars. An agreement made with one of them could be trusted. Unlike his own people, the Exid allowed themselves to be truly bound by their honor.

He sighed, leaning back on his chair and removing his blindfold. He had returned to the safehouse in Otan, renewed his connections with the non Exid population of the district. It was the same as always, the small hallway filled with sleeping quarters, and then the kitchen and living room, whose seats he now rested upon. It felt like a lifetime ago when Kalthen had arrived, sitting on that seat to bring terrible news.

It had been but a few weeks.

“If I do this,” he muttered, “it might start a war.”

A bead of sweat dripped down his brow, and he glanced at his glyph slate, remembering the situation and his orders. He chuckled a bit to himself, knowing the restrictions his priorities imposed on him.

“I suppose I don’t really have a choice by this point.”

He considered giving Kalthen a call, wanting to discuss the matter with the only close friend he had who he could discuss such things with, but ultimately Triezal decided not to. The blood would only be on his own hands, as well as that of the Leader. Not that Triezal expected Kadeki to care. He had done far worse than this.

At least, thought Triezal, most of the deaths would be aliens who could hardly be considered real people. He nodded, leaning forward again in his seat. Yes, if he thought of the Exid drones as animals, it made him feel far less guilty. His right pointer finger draped out over the slate, drawing a pattern into its surface that opened a channel he had prepared in advance. Holographic representations of the squad leaders working underneath him for this operation appeared above the slate, looking towards him for their orders.

“Operation is a go,” he said. “Everyone head to your assigned locations. We’ll start with Plan A.”

“Yes, sir!”

The images winked out, and Triezal stood up, checking his equipment once again. Perhaps he had been wrong to leave his position in the Janaste system. His current status was not much better, and the danger was far greater. And here he did not have the excuse of his actions being influenced by a Shade acting upon his mind.

At the moment, it felt like a cruel freedom.

The Janaste System: [Despite ostensibly being under the control of the Pantheonic Government, the Janaste system is where most of the refugees from the Celan flotilla were placed after being accepted into the region by the government. None of the planets are habitable, nor is the system particularly conveniently located or full of resources. Still, it is the hub of Celan culture and industry, and has rapidly become a technological center to rival Staive itself. It is said that for tens of lightyears in every direction the system can be seen with the naked eye from all of the flickering miasma emanating from the vast industrial shipyards and the stations themselves, which were constructed by the Celans. Rather than there being an actual branch of the Pantheonic Government, the Staiven, who have little desire to live in such an alien culture, have simply created a vassal state simply called the Celan Government, or the Janaste Government. Staiven Officials are sent on several year long shifts to oversee this government and ensure the Celans cannot break out of Staiven control. It is rumored, however, that there is a 'shadow government' whose influence dwarfs even that of the Staiven in the system. The Pantheonic Government keeps a close watch on the system, but allows it to remain in its current state because of how much value exists in interspecies mercantilism.]