[05] Elite: Reclamation by Drew Wagar Page A

impregnable. With the Imperials suitably informed, the Senator and his family could be, how shall we say, encouraged to retire early?’
    ‘And then?’ Mitchell queried.
    ‘The mining rights are owned by the Lorens,’ Vargo said, excitedly. ‘If the Lorens are no more, their claim dies with them. The Imperials have no other rights to the system. Chione would belong to us once more. Our claim as settlers becomes legal. The Federation and the Empire would be forced to negotiate with us!’
    ‘Assassinate the entire family?’ Mitchell said, startled by the audacity of the plan.
    ‘It must be done in Imperial fashion, honourably and with care,’ Solanac said. ‘Or we would fail to gain the necessary Imperial support.’
    ‘Can it be done?’ Mitchell demanded.
    ‘Is Chione ours?’ Vargo fired back. ‘Do we want it back? Are we prepared to fight for it?’
    Mitchell glared at Vargo from across the table. Silence descended on the room, broken only by the faint sounds of breathing from the rest of the Reclamists. Vargo and Mitchell continued to confront each other.
    ‘Alright,’ Mitchell said, slowly. ‘I’ll have a few extra special items for Octavia to deliver.’
    Vargo grinned. ‘Name them, I’ll get them.’
    Mitchell nodded. ‘I’m in, assuming …’ he looked at Solanac. ‘We can trust this information?’
    ‘Have I ever let you down?’ Solanac replied.
    ‘Looking forward to the day you do,’ Mitchell replied, straightening once more.
    ‘Enough,’ Vargo snapped. ‘Chione will be ours again.’
    He looked around at the rest of the Reclamists. ‘Chione is ours. Chione is ours!’
    The cry was taken up. The Reclamists, led by Vargo, chorused it again and again, rising to a crescendo. Eyes blazed with zeal, fists punched the air. The decision was made.
     
    ***
     
    Patron Dalk Torgen arrived at the Imperial Palace later that day, taking a swift airship from the continent. Favoured by the Senator, he was entitled to land the small vessel on the private landing area immediately below the palace grounds. From there he strode up through the ornamental gardens and on to the wide gravelled colonnade that led to the palace. Dalk, surprised as always at how the imposing building rose above him, cast an appraising eye over it once more. It was classic in the manner of Imperial fashion, with a mix of baroque spinnerets and sweeping buttresses. The palace was clad in white marble, but reinforced with various alloys for strength. It could easily serve as a fortress.
    Dalk proceeded up the colonnade to the main entrance, an enormous arch of obsidian fashioned to resemble the entrance to the Hall of Martyrs on distant Achernar. Dalk smiled inwardly, Senator Algreb’s desire for immortality was plain to see. Two flamewood doors, secured with bright steel reinforcements barred the way, but slowly and silently swung outwards as Dalk approached. There were no guards in evidence, but all movements were being watched. Dalk could sense them, appropriately concealed, but poised to act at a moment’s notice.
    The Senator’s youngest daughter was waiting for him in the vaulted foyer, standing on the bottom step of the wide and imposing staircase that led to the upper levels, her features illuminated by the bright sunshine streaming through the entrance.
    Without a word Dalk turned and walked to the right and down a flight of stairs. Kahina followed him without question.
    ‘You have displeased the Senator once again,’ Dalk said. It wasn’t a question.
    ‘He has displeased me.’
    ‘You seem to believe your opinion has some merit. You are unrepentant. This is not acceptable. You bring these punishments upon yourself.’
    ‘They are mine to bear,’ Kahina replied. ‘I will not comply with his wishes.’
    ‘We shall see about that.’
    Dalk led her downwards into the depths of the palace. They reached a door which responded to Dalk’s palm against its face by opening inwards. Dalk gestured to Kahina and she