Overture

A Space Opera story by elveloy

Zeta D'Achernar suppressed a yawn and made an effort to look alert, but sitting through six hours straight of tedious bickering over the space rights between Mu and Suria, was enough to send anyone into a coma. She was almost certain this was the third time the Surian minister had raised that same point. She glanced across at the Arbitrator, wishing he would wind things up.

As the Matriarch's representative, Zeta's presence had been requested to help steer a middle course between the demands and expectations of two of Achernar's subsidiary planets. She had done her job. The important edicts had been decided hours ago, now the delegates were arguing about minor details. Surely these could be left to the bureaucrats to thrash out, there was no need for the prime negotiators to be involved. She cast another glance at the Arbitrator.

An hour later Zeta was back in her temporary quarters on the space station, squeezing in a two minute shower in the refresher unit, before changing into her dress uniform for the formal reception that was due to commence in half an hour. Gritting her teeth, she adjusted the temperature to just above freezing for the last five seconds, hoping to shock herself into wakefulness. Shivering, she ran a comb through her short black hair and hastily pulled on the midnight blue trousers and shirt with gold braid which comprised her dress uniform. Made of artificial silk, it was tough enough to double as body armour.

Normally, she'd be looking forward to the Reception, a chance to enjoy some fancy food and sip a vintage savinon, but tonight she just wanted it to be over so she could go to bed. Five, maybe even six hours of uninterrupted sleep would be blissful. She sighed. The truth was she needed a holiday. Somewhere far away where she could go for long solitary walks then sleep as much as she needed. Someplace where she could shrug off the mantle of being the Matriarch's sister and just be herself. Someplace, where no-one knew who she was.

She rolled her shoulders, plastered a polite smile on her face and left her quarters, prepared to do her duty.

A month later, Zeta was strolling down a dusty alley, browsing through the colourful displays set out in front of tiny shops. Her two bodyguards accompanied her, both wearing the local costume, and acting the part of companions. A casual observer would have seen three young women enjoying a shopping expedition. Only their watchful eyes betrayed them.

As the sister of the Matriarch of the Eridanus Constellation, Zeta would normally have been accompanied by a small armed squadron, but she had argued long and hard for the freedom to be incognito, just for once, while she was on holiday. "Terania is a primitive, agricultural world," she had argued. "Off-world weapons are banned. Indeed, all technology other than what you can build for yourself is forbidden. They actually make their own clothes and grow their own food. In the ground! Can you believe it?"

"A wooden spear through the chest can kill you just as thoroughly as a neuroblaster," had been the Matriarch's dry comment, watching Zeta as she paced up and down.

Zeta had patted the two daggers tucked inside her sleeves. "You know I can defend myself, if I need to, but I intend to keep a low profile. Sleep and solitude are what I need right now. Peace and quiet. And besides, Terania is an independent world, light years away from Rigella and the Orionists, and us, for that matter. I will be perfectly safe there."

The Eridanis and the Orion Sovereignty had been on this latest Verge of War footing for the last fifty years. To the best of Zeta's knowledge, the two Constellations had been rivals since history began, but the total destruction of the Saiph worlds a century ago had shocked both parties to the core. Since then, they'd contented themselves with occasional skirmishes and the odd assassination, anything to avoid another full scale war. The Verge of War status might not have been true peace but it was a truce... of sorts.

"I don't know..." murmured the Matriarch, doubtfully.

Zeta had halted, looking up at her taller sister, struggling to control her agitation and speak reasonably. "Cleon, I need this! I need a break."

Taking Channa and Lian with her, her two personal bodyguards, had been the Matriarch's compromise.

A week of sleeping, eating and lazing on the sandy beach in front of the inn, had finally begun to pall. Zeta felt she was ready for some action. This morning had begun with a ten kay run along the beach and now she was relaxing with a browse through the shops. And tonight, she hoped to find out what the Teranians did for fun. She picked over a heap of brightly covered scarves.

A small group of men dressed in richly decorated garments entered the alley from the other end. Channa eyed them cautiously while Lian kept watch behind. It seemed to Channa that the three taller men were protecting the slight young man in the centre, someone was always next to him or just behind. Each man wore a dagger at his belt, gaudily sheathed in the local fashion, but from the way the men moved, she suspected they might be quite capable of defending themselves and their charge without recourse to a weapon. She rather liked the look of that dark, broad-shouldered man at the front. The young man they were guarding was too short for her taste, despite his shiny yellow hair and good-natured expression. In his embroidered waistcoat and intricately woven trousers, he was evidently a person of status, a local lordling perhaps?

"Zeta, look, he's just your size," she teased, while keeping a watchful gaze.

Zeta smiled slightly but shook her head. "I have no idea what the customs are here between women and men. Best to keep our distance, I think. At least... until we find out!" she added with a grin.

Zeta risked a quick glance under lowered eyes. He was cute! If they'd been on Achernar, she'd have had no hesitation in making an advance, inviting him out for a drink and maybe more, but they weren't. They were on Terania, a primitive planet. Who knew what was customary here? Maybe people even needed a third party to introduce them, like she'd seen in some historical holovids. She smiled at the thought.

As the two groups approached, Zeta couldn't help noticing that both sets of bodyguards automatically steered their charges away from the other so that they crossed on opposite sides of the road. She caught the eyes of the young man for a moment as they passed and gave a rueful smile. After a split second's hesitation, he smiled back. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved further along the row of shops. Zeta kept smiling. A bold one, then. Perhaps a holiday romance wasn't out of the question, after all. She'd ask Lian to make enquiries.

"They're off-worlders, here on holiday like us," Lian reported later. "From a planet called Maiya. I've never heard of it, but I admit I don't know the names of all the smaller worlds." She chewed her bottom lip. "If I had access to my usual sources I could find out more but that's as much as I could discover by word of mouth. I think we should be cautious. They could be anyone." She threw her hands up. "A plague on this world and its fear of technology. How do they find out anything important?"

"I think you worry too much, Lian. They're only four men relaxing on Terania as we are. When was the last time you saw an assassin accompanied by three bodyguards? And, in any case, we can look after ourselves."

Who would have thought musical instruments made out of wood and animal products could make so much noise? At least they were in tune, mostly. Zeta grimaced as she sipped her drink and gazed around. The Red Dove had been recommended by the innkeeper as the place to go if she wanted entertainment. To be sure, there were other taverns, for locals wanting a quick drink before or after dinner, but at this time of the year, the Red Dove was the only one with music. The place was packed with what appeared to be a mix of locals and a few off-worlders, mainly human. Channa was seated next to her, while Lian stood against the wall behind, keeping an eye on the crowd.

"Do you think your man will turn up here, then?" asked Channa idly, taking a small sip of her drink. One ale would last her all night.

"I hope so," admitted Zeta, widening her eyes provocatively. "After all, this is the only place they recommend for off-worlders."

Channa sniggered. "As long as you still respect him in the morning!" she teased.

"I always respect my lov-" An elbow in the ribs caused Zeta to break off suddenly.

"There he is," hissed Channa. "Just coming in the door now. And he's got two of his guards with him."

"Go and ask them if they'd like to join us," said Zeta.

"Really, Zeta! Do you think that's wise?" protested Lian from her post against the wall.

"It will be fine!"insisted Zeta. "This is our first time on Terania and these men are strangers to us. There's no reason to suspect them of wishing to harm us, is there? Go on please, Channa, I'll stay here with Lian."

She watched as Channa made her way through the throng. All three men turned to look across at Zeta and she gave a small wave. The three appeared to be arguing amongst themselves for a moment before they turned and followed Channa, the yellow haired man in the centre. He was even more good-looking than Zeta remembered.

Zeta stood and held out her hand in the old-fashioned way. "I'm glad you could join us. I'm Sika and these are my friends, Channa and Lian." She used her travelling alias as a matter of course but there was no need to have false names for her guards. They weren't the ones who were known throughout the constellation.

"Thank you for inviting us. My name is Roki, and my friends, Hal and Tarkan," the young man introduced himself with a smile.

"I'm afraid there are only two chairs," Zeta apologised.

"That's fine. We'll stand," said the shorter guard quickly. "You sit.. Roki." Zeta thought there had been a tiny pause before the name. As if it was a name Hal wasn't accustomed to using.

Roki seated himself as Hal went to stand against the wall, beside Lian. The two guards eyed each other warily.

"Perhaps you could get us all a round of drinks, Tarkan," asked Roki.

"I'll help," said Channa quickly. There was no way she was going to let a stranger, even one she fancied, bring drinks across a crowded room to her mistress. The two departed toward the bar and Zeta and Roki sized each other up. And smiled.

Two days passed before Zeta and Roki were able to persuade their over-protective guards that they deserved some private time together. They chose a secluded cabin on the beach, one that neither party had visited before, for both privacy and security.

Zeta and Roki arrived at the same time, carrying a couple of bottles of sparkling wine and a basket of supper, all carefully inspected by both guards.

"Goodnight," Zeta told the guards in firm tones, as she stood in the doorway to the cabin. "We'll see you in the morning."

Roki shut the door behind them and they exchanged a wry grin. "I know they are only doing their jobs but..."

"Sometimes..." Zeta shook her head.

She looked around the room, pleased to see a real wood fire ready to be lit, and a comfortable looking couch in front of it. Two open doors led respectively to a bedroom and a small bathroom.

"Let's open the wine and light the fire," suggested Roki.

The couch was just as comfortable as Zeta had hoped.

"I hope you're not getting too attached to Roki," Lian warned, carefully, a few days later. "You've been spending a lot of time together."

"He's fun," said Zeta, equally carefully. "And I am supposed to be having a holiday, after all."

"Well, as long as you realise you'll have to say 'goodbye' soon," said Lian. "Remember, we return to Achernar in a couple of days."

"Hmm," murmured Zeta. "We'll see. Roki has another week here."

Lian gave her a sharp glance but Zeta refused to meet her eyes.

Zeta looked across at Roki sleeping in the bed next to her and sighed wistfully. He was different from the men she knew, less shy and self-effacing. He expected to be treated as an equal and, rather to her surprise, Zeta found that she liked that. She sighed again, if only...

She couldn't complain, they had both known exactly what they were getting into. A holiday romance—with no ties, no promises, and hopefully, no regrets. Both of them had realised immediately that the other must be a person of status in the outside world, the average tourist certainly did not travel with one bodyguard, let alone two or three, but each was careful not to probe too deeply, accepting the edited version of themselves the other was prepared to offer. They had talked about Terania, about common interests, likes and dislikes, funny stories from their past, but nothing that would give away their true identity.

Despite the omission, it was clear to Zeta that Roki was a person of consequence on his world. Perhaps the gap between them might be surmountable. Or would the knowledge that she was the sister of the most powerful woman in the Constellation be too overwhelming?

She was still pondering when there was a crash outside and the sound of raised voices.

"Let us through!"

"Out of the way!"

Zeta leapt to her feet, reaching for her weapons, at the same moment she identified the voices as belonging to Roki's guards.

"Roki?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," said Roki grimly, now wide awake, "but I'm going to find out!"

Even as he finished speaking the bedroom door was flung open and Hal almost fell into the room, Lian hanging grimly onto his right arm. They caught a glimpse of Tarkan and Channa struggling viciously on the floor of the main room.

"Stop that right now!" thundered Roki. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Are you all right, sire?" asked Hal at exactly the same moment. "She's an Eridani!"

Zeta stared at Roki in shock, and took a step back, still gripping her daggers. Sire? Just who the frack was he?

Hal jerked forward, Lian still hanging on. "Look out! She's armed!"

"Stay back!" ordered Roki, getting to his feet and ignoring his nakedness. "Can I suggest we all calm down for a moment? Sika?"

He pulled one of the covers off the bed and held it out to her.

Zeta hesitated, looking for signs of treachery on Roki's face but found nothing except concern. She dropped her daggers and took the bedcover, wrapping it around her body. Roki wrapped a second cloth around his waist.

"Now what's all this about?"

The four guards all spoke at once, glaring at each other.

"Assassin..."

"... Orionist butcher..."

"Eridani plot..."

"Enough!" said Zeta loudly over the top, getting back in control. "I think the time for subterfuge has passed. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves." She squared her shoulders, knowing that whatever Roki said, this was the end of their relationship. "Matris Zeta D'Achernar, younger sister to the Matriarch of the Eridani Constellation."

Roki swallowed.

"Prince Barok of Rigella, third son to King Agos of the Orion Sovereignty."

The guards moved as one to stand behind their respective charges, poised to attack again if given the word.

Roki and Zeta's faces were expressionless masks as they wondered how on Betelgeuse to extract themselves from a situation that could turn from farce to tragedy in an instant.

"Well, I think I can safely say that no-one is planning to assassinate anyone tonight." said Zeta, looking at Roki. "If you like to remain here, I'll take my clothes into the other room to dress and then I'll go back to the inn. Or if you prefer, you and your men can go into the front room and I'll stay here until you leave."

"We'll go," said Roki, without asking Hal or Tarkan, realising that Zeta needed to retrieve her daggers. He picked up his clothes and hesitated for a moment. He looked at Zeta, wishing they could have a moment of privacy, but that was out of the question. "I'm sorry things ended this way. I enjoyed your company... Sika."

Zeta swallowed. "I enjoyed your company too, Roki. Perhaps... one of these days... we'll see."

Given the current state of tension between the two Constellations, not to mention the downright hostility, Zeta knew that she and Roki—Barok—would never meet again, but maybe their encounter would pave the way for others, perhaps one day in the future, in a generation or two... who knew what might happen?