Cool
Formally, the welcoming party waited. As professional gladiators, Kieran Ravy and his friends wore the standard Class A dress uniform, which consisted of a tunic and crisp white pants with a thick horizontal chest stripe color-coded to indicate their primary combat specialization (though this was less clear as Entry rank). The sleeves were decorated with rows of small metallic bars that represented tournament victories. (The denominations of the bars usually represented one, five, ten, twenty-five, fifty, or one hundred officially recognized victories.) Simple headbands and bracers of the same color completed the ensemble. Tradition required them to wear their primary bladed weapon, usually sheathed in their chosen carrying method, even though their primary clothing was ceremonial.
From the lowered ramp of the frigate, three individuals stepped out. They were dressed in spotless Rimland Security Force Class A uniforms, which consisted of well-tailored olive-drab tunics and pants with an eye-catching array of medal ribbons sported prominently on the left breast of each tunic. They had regular close-cropped military hairstyles and were hatless. Their tunics were tightened by polished black belts with elaborate brass buckles. With the exception of a single white stripe running along each outer seam, their pants matched the tunics.
Each man had a large, traditional gray trench coat thrown over his uniform, even though the weather was lovely. Shoulder holsters holding big, ceremonial-looking six-shot revolvers were visible beneath the coats. Interestingly, they lacked the typical uniform nametags, which gave their appearance a purposeful air of anonymity. The trio's apparent leader, a stern-faced man perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, was greeted by Jaron Ravy, who moved forward to greet him. The officer returned Jaron's sharp, official military salute, and they shook hands firmly. Then, pointing to an access path that led out of the landing bay, Jaron stepped into line with the lead officer, with the other two officials following suit. After exchanging glances, Kieran Ravy and Taran Ravy lined up behind their father and the military group.
After a moment of hesitation, Nora Rahmyn, Luna Trevyn, Yan Zantara, and Nayla Zantara hesitantly formed up behind the Ravy brothers. The procession passed through a number of hallways in total stillness before arriving at a secure conference room tucked away in the main administrative complex. After everyone had gone inside, Taran Ravy manually engaged the thick door's heavy locking mechanisms. Nayla Zantara deduced that the chamber was probably soundproof and protected from electronic eavesdropping by looking at the door's structure and the seals surrounding its frame. The three officers took their seats around the shiny conference table after removing their bulky trench coats and tucking them neatly over the backs of their chairs. The four visiting gladiators were addressed immediately by one of the two lower-ranking officers, who was obviously not the senior commander. His tone was polite but professional.
"I imagine," he started, "that you four must be wondering about the extent of the secret involved, the circumstances of your... invitation... here, and in fact, the presence of three top Rimland Security Force command personnel. Do not hesitate to inquire.
The first to speak was Luna Trevyn, whose steady, quiet voice had no inflection but an indisputable weight. "Let's cut off the small talk. Through House Ravy, we were sent an urgent summons that forced us to cancel a major event in which a number of us were well-positioned. We make our way halfway across the sector, arrive in near-secret, wait for two days, and are eventually shown into a high-level, secure room. What exactly is happening?
"Simple and straightforward. "Comprehensive," the officer said, nodding slightly. Though collaboration and communication take place through liaisons and, more formally, under the framework of the Galactic Senate, the Core Worlds Alliance and the Rimward Territories, as you may know, have essentially independent governments and military institutions. "What is not well known," he added, his voice growing more solemn, "is that a major political catastrophe is on the verge of occurring.
There has been significant unrest in the Senate, largely due to the clever theft of large sums of money from the treasuries of the Core Alliance and the Rim Territories, by an unidentified group or conspiracy. Across the aisle, as expected, blame and accusations are being slung. We suspect Core operatives; the Core suspects Rimward agents. Relations between the opposing governments and military commands are being progressively deteriorated by this internal Senate conflict.
The level of tension is rapidly rising. To be honest, we have never been this close to an open galactic conflict between the Core and the Rim in centuries. Some of the Core Alliance's extreme factions appear almost ready for war. On the other hand, the Rimward government is making a significant, clandestine attempt to defuse the situation and find the real cause of this issue before fighting breaks out. Unfortunately, we are only able to use a very small number of debatable assets and resources because to the sensitive nature of this internal investigation. Any direct military or intelligence action runs the risk of making the situation known to the entire galaxy, which might lead to widespread fear and possibly start the same conflict we are trying to avoid. Our goal is clear: find the party or parties behind the embezzlement and political instability, collect indisputable evidence, and subtly eliminate the threat."
"And where do we fit into this picture?" Quite plainly, Nora Rahmyn asked.
"Our intelligence analysts are working to generate a short list of high-probability suspects – individuals within the Senate or associated bureaucracies with the means, motive, and opportunity," the second officer in charge explained. "Once we have that list, we require a small, deniable team capable of conducting covert surveillance and investigation into each suspect."
"Off the books, naturally?" Yan Zantara made a guess.
The officer gave a quick nod. "Precisely."
"Why us?" In response, Kieran Ravy asked the obvious question. "How about hiring seasoned Elite or even senior Elemental agents? They have more experience and a solid reputation for doing this type of service.
According to the first officer, "Discretion is paramount," "High-profile Elite or senior Elemental warriors would undoubtedly draw undesired notice if they suddenly vanished or engaged in strange conduct. Despite being officially at Entry rank, our intelligence suggests that your group as a whole has potential and skill levels similar to those of recently ascended Elementals. More significantly, you are mostly invisible. Alarms are less likely to be raised if you are temporarily removed from the circuit.
"And the compensation for undertaking such a high-risk, politically sensitive, deniable operation?" Ever pragmatic when profit was at stake, Yan Zantara asked.
"Immediate elevation to full Elemental rank for all five of you upon successful completion of the assignment," the officer said bluntly. "Additionally, guaranteed sponsorship, including all training, equipment, and travel expenses covered by the RSF, all the way through to potential Elite qualification trials, should you pursue that path." Yan Zantara raised his eyebrows.
Yan Zantara stated, "That... is a substantial offer," and he remained impressed. "You must really need this done." Silently advising him not to press for more, Kieran Ravy gave him a subtle but clear warning look.
The officer went on, "Let's be clear," as he looked around the table. "You are not indispensable, even though your team has a desirable blend of skill and anonymity. However, House Ravy's participation is essential. Deep in Core territory, they are one of the few genuinely trustworthy industrial friends on the Rim. Their technological prowess is unmatched, their intelligence-gathering capabilities are substantial, and their specialized facilities, such as The Works, are priceless resources."
Nora Rahmyn insisted, "Which brings us back to The Works." What is it, exactly?
Kieran Ravy looked at his father and said, "I can field that one," with a nod of approval. "Nora Rahmyn, you recall the discussion about Celyra Prime's moons when we arrived?"
"In a vague way. "Six of them?"
"That is correct. Which one seems to be the most inhospitable location for traditional settlement, according to general astronomical data?
"Uh... Menkai?" Remembering the summary of planetary surveys, Nora Rahmyn ventured an estimate. "Isn't that the one with the hyper-corrosive atmosphere, lakes of toxic chemical sludge, constant, planet-wide ion storms, and virtually no free water?"
"Sounds like a perfect location for a highly secure, top-secret research and development facility, wouldn't you agree?" Kieran Ravy made a rhetorical question. Nora Rahmyn suddenly became aware of the situation.
"Oh," exhaled Nora Rahmyn. Let me guess, then. House Ravy sends its brightest, security-cleared scientists to "The Works," a tightly guarded compound deep beneath Menkai's surface, to research cutting-edge, classified technologies under incredibly strict security measures.
"Bingo," Kieran Ravy said, grinning a little. "Yes, if we accept this job, Menkai and The Works will be our next stop after leaving here. The details of the security arrangements are classified way above my pay grade; if I went into further detail, Dad would literally have my head. The staff members assigned there are... special. usually those who don't have any close relatives or outside relationships. They commit to The Works for the rest of their lives once they accept the job.
Until their natural demise, they live and work fully inside the institution. They have access to every luxury, resource, and state-of-the-art piece of equipment, making it a researcher's dream come true, although one that is veiled in complete secrecy and seclusion. It's where the prototype drive system that's currently installed on the Kyara came from," Kieran Ravy continued. And while we're there, if I'm lucky, some new advancements in personal armor and weapons might also 'accidentally' end up on my list of requests. In addition to providing a briefing on the mission details, we will assign The Works' engineers the responsibility of creating and manufacturing any specialized surveillance or infiltration equipment that may be required for your inquiry.
The conference room fell silent as the four newcomers processed the ramifications. Once more, it was Nora Rahmyn who asked the question that was hanging in the air. "All right. It sounds significant and possibly profitable. What's the catch, then?
For the first time, the senior Rimward officer, who had been silent during the briefing, leaned forward a little and gave Nora Rahmyn a sharp look as he responded to her directly.
"As you stated, Ms. Rahmyn, the 'catch,' is complete and utter isolation. The repercussions will be immediate, clear-cut, and fatal if you mention any part of this operation—the Senate crisis, this meeting, the presence or location of The Works, your assignment—to anybody outside of this room, regardless of the circumstances. Am I completely clear?
Nora Rahmyn met his eyes without flinching and said, "Crystal," in an even response. Nayla Zantara thought in private, "Crystal is actually full of imperfections," a self-satisfied internal remark that gave her a brief moment of humor that only she could see.
Kieran Ravy glanced at his friends around the table. Calmly, "I've had slightly longer to process this than the rest of you," he said. "I see no rational reason to decline, given the stakes, the possible rewards, and, to be honest, the necessity. Is there anyone who objects? In turn, Luna Trevyn, Yan Zantara, Nayla Zantara, and Nora Rahmyn shook their heads. They were in.
The senior officer's lips briefly formed a small, contented smile. "Great. Permit me to convey the Rimland Security Force High Command's... sincere appreciation for your readiness to embark on this crucial assignment."
Under his breath, Yan Zantara said, "A debt they'll be paying handsomely for, one way or another," a sly smile briefly appearing on his face. The deal was sealed with formal handshakes given by everyone. No contracts were signed in writing, and the encounter would never be officially documented.
As the first subordinate officer put it, "Welcome to the service, albeit unofficially," Think of your promotion to Elemental rank as taking effect when you leave Celyra Prime after Nayla Zantara's match. It is possible to schedule formal induction ceremonies for a later, more suitable period. We sincerely appreciate your cooperation. He gave Jaron Ravy a nod. The three officers then gathered their coats and left as quietly and effectively as they had come. The meeting room fell silent again as the five friends exchanged glances, a little taken aback by the unexpected gravity and confidentiality of the mission they had just agreed upon. The tension was eventually released by Nora Rahmyn, who smiled slowly and with a hint of amazement. "Well," she inhaled deeply. "Cool."