All That Glitters Ch. 52

She looked carefully at the blade. In shape, it closely resembled half of the large leaf of the Saklet Tree. The broad blade had a single edge to it. The hilt, some kind of stone that she had never seen before, had been polished to a mirror finish yet was well fitted to an Asocan hand with its two thumbs and two digits. Overall, it was a little on the large size for her but the hilt could be rewrapped to adjust for the hand as the owner grew, thus allowing the blade to serve for life. The blade shone with a gleam that Varren had never seen on Asocan weapons before.

She went to put it back into its sheath but all five people in the room gasped. Varren stopped her movement, surprised.

"When you first draw a new blade, you must give it a taste of your blood, Varren," Garnal told her.

Varren had heard of this before but had never owned a blade of her own. She was a little hesitant to do this and lifted her hand up to her face, the blade held in the opposite hand. With a nervous look, she brought the blade toward her finger.

"It doesn't have to be a deep cut, Varren, just enough to draw blood," Garnal told her younger cousin.

Varren gave a sigh of relief and gently cut her finger. The Damate was surprisingly sharp. She slid her finger over both sides of the blade. Asocans healed swiftly and Varren's cut was already sealing over. It would be fully healed in an hour.

Her sire, gave her some special paper. She had never felt this type of paper before.

"It is called 'rice paper', a human product. Clean the blade, from the back side," he told her, warning her to be careful. Varren wiped the blade carefully as he had instructed, to prevent accidentally cutting herself again. She sheathed the blade.

Her sire showed her a compartment under the box that held several pieces of the rice paper and some special oil. "Garnal will show you how to take care of your Damate. Treat it with respect, always. Never draw it unless you intend to use it. If you wish to display it, draw it only partway until the crests can be clearly seen," he instructed.

Varren nodded. She remembered that from the holo-vid serials. Her heart swelled. She had lost one family and gained another, and now been formally numbered among the Asocans. She would never forget this day for both bad, and good reasons...

Denders Resort, Terra, The Sol System

Denders Resort was a quiet place as the evening set in. There were no parties and though the dance clubs were open, there were no revellers dancing. People had been shocked beyond words because of the images they had witnessed that morning.

The need for companionship was evident everywhere as people stayed close to each other, often touching or holding tightly to their partners. People would not go to bed alone this night. Even the Asocans, who normally slept alone, were seeking companionship for the evening.

Alya held tightly to Raymond as they walked along the beach.

"I shall miss it here," she told him.

"We will be able to come back on occasion," he told her. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better. I was shocked to see that on the vid," Alya replied with feeling. "It briefly brought back some bad memories but I was able to control it. I do not want to see that again, though.

"Do you have to go and fight?" she asked of him.

"We will be fighting from my ship. You will be with me at all times, if you want. But you do have a job to do, with Caye-Ur," Raymond reminded her.

"She is trying to set things up with Accan Hallat. Now that Union ships are not permitted into Asocan space, she has a load of comps meant for the Asocans that can be transferred instead to the Harradi. What of the new ship?" Alya mused.

"We take possession of it in two days. The crew is finalizing their training and the ship's certification. If I cannot make it, Lea will attend as part of our partnership. You can go with her to Liramor Prime for the acceptance ceremony. Caye-Ur will likely make use of your expertise as soon as she has possession of the ship, if not before," Raymond explained.

"I look forward to that. I despaired that I would not be able to work in my field again. It is not quite what I was doing before but I have a purpose with the knowledge that I have acquired over the years," she divulged.

"Where is Joyce?" Raymond wanted to know.

"She is with the other nurses from Liramor-23. They are at the bar having a few drinks. They figured this would be the last chance they have to get blitzed before they were back on regular shifts," she informed him.

"I don't blame them. That was a bit of a shock for me to witness, too," Raymond disclosed.

Alya clutched his arm a little tighter. Raymond wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. By unspoken agreement, they slowly made their way back to their villa. Morning would come too quickly for both of them.

Hollister Apartment, Capital City, Terra, The Sol System

Mike Hollister was returning to his apartment later that night trying desperately to figure out how it was that every time he confronted the President, his daughter Grace, or the aliens, he came out of it badly. Just as he was approaching his door, someone placed a hood over his head and something pungent covered his nose. A few moments later, he found himself losing consciousness.

Mike woke up feeling a little chilled, not sure where he was. He could hear dripping water and felt a light breeze on his hands. He heard people moving about.

"Hello?" he called out, his throat dry and raspy.

Immediately, the hood was pulled off his head and he found himself looking into bright lights trained on his face. He tried to move his head but he was forcibly placed back on the chair he was in.

"Mike Hollister, the people are demanding your obedience," a voice said.

"I give the Lord my obedience," Hollister retorted.

"YOU GIVE THE LORD YOUR PLATITUDES, NOT YOUR OBEDIENCE," the voice thundered, unnerving Hollister.

"What do you want?" Hollister snarled to the voice, only to have someone smack him in the back of the head.

"We need you, Mike Hollister. We need you to be the voice against the aliens," the voice insisted.

"Nothing doing," Mike replied. "Every time I have anything to do with them, I end up looking bad. I lost my wife, I lost my family and, for awhile, I lost my licence to be a reverend. I want nothing more to do with them or with the President or his family."

"You ended up looking bad because you broke the fundamental rules of being a reverend, you fool!" the voice snarled.

"When you showed those images of the President dancing with the half-naked Byandi, you were caught out as lying about the situation and not even by the President himself. His daughter caught you out and exposed you to the media! They had a field day with you because of your own stupidity. Your wife divorced you, not because of your feelings towards the aliens, but because the President's daughter was correct, you lied to the people in order to make the President look bad.

"If you displease them, the people have long memories, Hollister. But when you do well, when you do right by the people, they can and will forgive much. Earn their forgiveness, Mike Hollister. Remember why we do what we do," the voice stated.

"What do you mean?" Hollister asked.

"Do you remember your time in Theology School, Hollister? What is the purpose of religion, its true purpose?" the voice demanded imperiously.

"To guide people to God," Hollister replied.

"Imbecile! My mother taught me to kneel at my bed and pray to God for my family and friends. Not for me, but my family and friends. I can talk to God anywhere I can kneel and pray. Why then do we have religion? What is its true purpose? You don't know, do you Hollister?

"Religion is the Moral Guide for any society, Hollister. The Moral Guide, Hollister. We taught the people how to behave and how to work with each other. As long as religion continued to be the Guide, our societies were open, helpful to each other and to other groups of people, even other religions.

"But, when we changed from being the Moral Guide to being the Morale Whip, the fundamental nature of religion, and our societies themselves, changed. We were no longer open, no longer helpful. No longer tolerant of others. We went to war over religion.

"Eventually, the people recognized that religion was no longer guiding them, it was making slaves of them, and they turned their backs on us, justifiably so!

"Now we have the chance to once again guide the people to the truth," the voice intoned.

"What truth?" Hollister demanded. "What is truth? How do we know that we have achieved it?"

"Those are the fundamental questions, are they not, Hollister," the voice said deadpan.

"In the next few days, you will be approached by the President's people. It is inevitable. They need someone like you working from your point of view. They need someone from within our community and they believe, as do we, that you owe them, Hollister.

"They will want you to hold the people within your hands and extoll the truth's that would be hidden. They will want you to spout against the alien horde.

"Connect with this group, Hollister. Do as they ask of you, for now.

"Always remember, Hollister, to seek out and bring the truth to others, even if that truth is of a bitter taste to us. We cannot be fundamentally hurt if we extoll the truth, whereas if we lie, we can be...

"Take him back," the voice ordered. The hood was placed back over his head and he was roughly picked up and taken away. He was thrown into something that began to move. The way it moved told him it was a ground vehicle.

************

"Do you think he bought it?" one of the people asked the leader.

"Hard to say, that will depend on how the others approach him," the leader replied.

"For now, we will give him hints to work on..."

Denders Shuttle Port, Denders Resort, Terra, The Sol System

Sylvie Triand was in her element as she marshalled the people to their respective shuttles and ships. Most of the guests were moving through the arrival/departure station in the central plaza, the Plaza del Sol. The more prestigious guests were being picked up directly at their villas. Sylvie was coordinating all of it, ensuring that no one was missed nor delivered to the wrong shuttle or ship in orbit.

Forty-five Union Navy ships were waiting in orbit for the special guests, the leaders of the Greater Community and their Ministers. They would be returning most of them to their respective home worlds. However, with Asocan space now closed to Union ships, some would be returned by a less direct route than others.

"Thank-you, Sylvie, for all of your help during our stay," the Kumaraie said as the carts arrived to pick up her rather large personal entourage.

"Think nothing of it, Kumaraie. That is part of my job description here at Denders," Sylvie replied.

"I could use a person with your skills working for me at my palace, Sylvie. Is there any way I could tempt you to come over to my side?" the Kumaraie teased.

"Not unless you could provide me with a mate as good to me and for me as the one I have already selected, Kumaraie," Sylvie replied with a broad smile.

"When is the ceremony?" the Kumaroe asked with a smile.

"We haven't set a date yet but I will let you know when we do," Sylvie admitted.

"Good, we will soon have our own personal transport, a Trine Class ship of our own. If you let us know the dates, we will make an effort to be here to witness the ceremony," the Kumaraie replied. "If not, we expect to participate via vid-link."

Sylvie smiled and bowed Pod-Drran style, hand over heart. The Kumir-Rai chuckled at that as they waited for their boss to take a seat on the cart. A moment later, they were off to meet their shuttle. Sylvie was on her comp immediately requesting a cleanup crew to the villa. This one would have to take down all the 'tents' that the Kumir-Rai/Ro had used for quarters and for guard duties.

Her next stop was at her boss' villa.

"Hello, Sylvie," Henadi called out as she approached, a smiling Junelliya beside her. "I have been getting excellent reviews from the special guests on your performance these last two weeks. I am going to ask the board that you receive a bonus for all of your hard work."

"Thank-you, Henadi. I will look forward to that. It will help my war chest for my wedding," she smiled to the pair.

"Have you set a date yet?" Junelliya asked.

"Not yet, but you will be the first to know. If it hadn't been for your trine, I would never have met Winston," Sylvie explained.

"If we can be, we will be here," Henadi told her. "Our ship can be anywhere in Union space in a single jump, so the only thing keeping us away from your wedding would be another crisis."

"Oh, please! Crises seem to follow you lot around," Sylvie laughed. "But seriously, I do look forward to seeing you all at my wedding."

The pair hugged just as Fayad came out with the children, the cats riding his shoulders. When they saw Sylvie, the cats immediately jumped to her calling out a greeting, getting laughter from Sylvie and the children.

"They like you," Ikekiya explained unnecessarily.

"Well that's good because I like them, and both of you too," Sylvie said as she kissed both children on their foreheads.

"Seeka?" Henadi asked of Sylvie.

"The staff should be being picked up now in the special bus. You will see them at The Trine," Sylvie advised.

"Busy morning then?" Fayad asked.

"Oh yes, but I enjoy the transition between groups, though this one is a little larger than usual," Sylvie quipped. "I'll send you the information of the numbers of non-human visitors for the next few months as soon as I complete things this morning," Sylvie told her boss. She got hugs from Henadi and Junelliya and watched as they slipped into their carts. They were swiftly sped off to the shuttle port.

Central Control, Liramor-23, 109 Piscium System, 106 Light Years from Terra

Fiona Marsh and her small group had been picked up at their villa and brought to The Valour II not long after breakfast. Fiona had to be at Liramor-23 this morning as most of the leadership was intending to stop on the way home to see their respective embassies. It was looking to be a busy day for her first day back.

As soon as she entered the Control Center she snapped off a series of orders advising the controllers to check e-mails for notifications of travel, the new forms required by jump ships to identify their place of origin and intended jump points. The ones listed for Liramor-23 would automatically be highlighted by the computer. A slew of forms came up and her staff got to work.

She immediately entered Conference Room One and called in her team.

"Welcome back, Director Marsh," Martine Lavoie, Senior Operations Officer for the second shift said as she entered the conference room.

"Good morning Martine, this is Grace Elizabeth Holloway. She is conducting a gap year before entering university and will be acting as my EA while here. We need to get her signed off on security for Liramor Holdings poste-haste," Fiona advised her SOps.

"Roger that, ma'am. Wait, Grace Holloway? As in the President's daughter?" Martine did a double take.

"The same, Ms. Lavoie," Grace replied with a smile. "However, I am on my own now, no longer under my father's protective embrace," Grace stated.

Martine noted the young woman sitting in the background. The woman smelled of bodyguard and since she knew all of the local bodyguards, that made her Grace's personal security.

So much for not being under her father's protective embrace, thought Martine.

As Fiona went through the morning brief, both Grace and Capt. Pétillante, Fiona's military Aide-de-camp, were seated just back of their principle. Martine noted that Grace was carefully watching the interplay between Fiona and her underlings. A shiver went up her spine as she realized that Grace might turn out to be one of those people who all could rely on to do the job properly. Time would tell.

Next, Fiona took them into the military wing of Central Control. Due to her father's penchant for dragging her along everywhere, Grace had received a temporary security clearance which the Navy simply made permanent. She was able to listen to high-level briefs at the Navy level before hearing the classified briefs at the civilian (Liramor Holdings) level.

Fiona swung back into Central Control and her office but took the time to introduce Grace to all of the people currently working in control. Fiona received a message from Liramor Prime that Grace was not cleared to listen into. She and Martine Lavoie entered her office while Grace sat the central chair (the Boss' Chair, it said so on the back of it) in control.

Grace made idle chit chat, getting to know the people on the boards when the Ops O barked out an item.

"Unexpected FTL event outside of standard lanes...It's a big one!" Ops said, panic starting to slip into her voice.

Grace knew that these people were good at their jobs or they wouldn't be sitting these boards, however, like all people confronted with unexpected events in times of crisis, they could be spooked. She remembered her training.

"Keep a lid on it, people!" she barked out. "You know the routine, let's get to it. ID on the event anyone?" she asked, getting the staff back to their tasks.

"It's a Djinaëte ship," some one called out.

"Comms O?" Grace looked toward that person. Comms opened the link so that those in control could hear what was coming through. It was in the clicks and whistles of the Djinaëte language and the matrix took a moment to catch up, the words coming up in written text on one of the large monitors.

CENTRAL CONTROL THIS IS Djinaëte ship **#^&%!# (UNTL) sISTER &&%##* (UNTL) COMMANDING. WE MAKE NOTICE MEDICAL

"What does that mean?" Ops asked.

Grace caught on, "Medical Emergency!" she called out. "Comms, ask the ship what species and what their condition is."

Grace didn't need the answer, she knew in her heart it would be human. She snapped at her emergency response button on her comp. It was tuned to the local emergency response agency no matter where the user was.

"Hospital, Nurse Rose Anne Barker speaking. What is the nature of your emergency?" a female voice asked.

"This is Grace Holloway, Director Marsh's EA. I am in Central Control and we have a Djinaëte ship declaring a medical emergency, standby for more," Grace said, leaving the link open.

HUMAN FEMALE WITH MANY HURTS. HAVE PROBLEM BREATH. HAVE PROBLEM ***&> !@!# (UNTL) Came the reply from the ship.

"Human female with multiple injuries in respiratory distress," Grace advised the hospital.

"Roger that, we will send the Emergency Medical Shuttle out immediately. Please advise the Djinaëte ship to give us priority," Rose Ann told Grace.

"Got it, ma'am," Comms replied, hearing the request.

"What does UNTL mean?" Grace demanded. "I have never encountered that abbreviation before."

"Untranslatable," the Comms O supplied. "It is something the linguists use."

"What is the protocol for that shuttle, people?" Grace demanded, mostly because she herself didn't know.

"All ships are required to cease operations and come to a standstill until the EMS has returned to the platform, ma'am," one of the Controllers replied to Grace's question.

"Get us a direct track for the EMS to follow," Grace snapped. "Put it up on the Tactical Display for the Navy ships. There are too many to control directly, let them control themselves. Send out a general order to stay the hell away from that track until the EMS gets back to the platform."

"Aye, ma'am," both Controllers responded to the authority in her voice.