The square table at the center of the reception room was heavy with delicacies. Candles burned bright in ornate lantern stands that lined the round walls, illuminating the dark brown mosaic floor covered with delicate designs of lush flowers amidst gold leaf tiling patterns. Atop those two dozen surfaces stood a pot containing finely cut vegetables garnished with colorful greens and freshly picked herbs. This dinning hall occupied a central spot, and many private chambers opened off to either side, brightly lit and richly adorned. Gentle strains of music drifted on the air.

President Jianyu shifted in her seat. A hand fan rustled idly beside her teacup, stirring a faint cloud of pleasant aroma that escaped the bowl in front of her. She leaned forward attentively toward her guest seated opposite, watching closely. While not necessarily attractive, there was something decidedly pleasing in the cool gleam of her black hair against yellow skin, framed by her plain robe and contrasting jewelry. Beyond pleasantries of politeness, she seemed genuinely interested in his news.

Guiren had been impressed as his shuttle had descended towards the capital, the sight of the tall geometric shapes laid out in a perfect pattern below. Wanzhan had been at his side, the divorce with her ex-husband fast tracked at Guiren's behest and resolved before the man was even awakened from his stasis. In the days of their approach towards the planet, he had learned of her pregnancy. The prospect of adopting a son into the Family filled him with great joy, despite the circumstances leading to such a choice.

Jianyu listened carefully as Guiren finally touched on the troubling topics, and the reason he was sent here.

"We are producing additional colony ships as fast as we are able," president Jianyu said with a smile. "We are already undertaking efforts to claim Gliese 1061."

"I am aware," Guiren answered. "However, the Buhakharan access to Assemblers 1 and 2 is deemed to carry critical operational risks."

"Just so?", Jianyu said, her face impassive.

"Centauran shipyard capacity far exceeds that of our assets in Sol. For that reason alone, our Family should secure this system."

"You propose to remove the Buhakharans from all critical positions? How do you propose we undertake such an... ambitious venture?"

"In fact, the Family demands it. A contingent of twelve thousand house troopers has arrived on the inbound transport, small arms and ordnance concealed amongst the cargo."

"I see," Jianyu said softly. Her hands rested flat on the tabletop. Guiren watched them, admiring her skillful control. Long fingers moved precisely like silk under water. Her calm demeanor was startling; one might think her age rather high based on appearance, yet she moved agilely like a young woman whose poise was inborn. Looking deeply into her eyes, he saw peace mirrored within them, as if the wisdom born years ago remained unchanged.

She smiled warmly.

"Your information pleases me greatly. Thank you for making the journey, Guiren."

Guiren nodded deeply, just as president Jianyu made a curt gesture of her hand. A light flashed from the corner in the room. Guiren blinked once, then slumped out of his chair, falling to the ground, his arm dragging a plethora of bowls and cups along with him, shattering atop the cold stone floor.

Silence reigned briefly before the door to the antechamber opened and a tall Buhakharan man in a deep red tunic strode into the room. Jianyu raised herself from her chair, fanning slowly as she came to stand at the man's side, observing the slain body on the floor, blood trickling from a small wound in his neck.

"I must say I had not expected this from you, madam president," the man said.

"I can only hope this further cements the trust between our peoples, minister Bosharoff."

"Mmmm," Bosharoff buzzed. "And what will our Great Families have to say of this?"

"They can say what they want. We built this world together over the past six thousand Earth Years. Let's not tear it all apart at the behest of people lightyears from here."

"What about him?", Bosharoff said, indicating Guiren's body with a tilt of his head.

"He's still family. We'll raise a new clone. It will be created from our soil. Therefore, it will be loyal to this world."

"I see," Bosharoff said without enthusiasm, continuing to glare disapprovingly at Guiren. His gaze turned calculating. "In light of honesty, I regret I have to report that Buhakhara also sent a surprise package of troops and weapons, although ours only number four thousand..."

"So I was informed. I was wondering when you were going to mention it."

"What do you want me to do with them?", Bosharoff asked curiously.

"I propose we leave all of them right where they sit. Deny everyone on that transport landing rights. No one else is to set foot on our worlds. They're useless to us anyway. Put them to work on the shipyards, disperse them and send them away on the colony ships."

"Isn't that a bit harsh? There are civilians on that transport. Entrepreneurs, minor family topscalers, educated people, skilled laborers..."

"And more infiltrators from our concerned families. Remember how many we had to weed out last time?"

"Mmmm, yes. Yes, I see."

"Please excuse me as I take my leave from you. I have another pressing matter to attend to..."

The guard ripped the concealing hood from Wanzhan's head. She blinked, even the gloom around her suddenly looking startlingly bright. A robed figure stood opposite her, outlined against the backdrop of sprawling pipes and sparse but functional industrial lighting. The sound of distant machines droned indistinctly overhead. An oily mist pervaded everything, already irritating her eyes and nostrils.

"You can not do this! Do you know who I am?", Wanzhan shouted hoarsely.

"A stupid dumpsterscale girl that fucked up her ambitious plan somewhere along the way, that is what you are," the figure answered, taking a step forward.

Yellow lamplight revealed Jianyu's cold, stern face. Wearing no expression whatsoever, she continued staring intently into Wanzhan's angry eyes, looming above her like a monument of implacability itself.

"Your kind always fails to take into account the consequences of time," Jianyu continued, a serene tone swirling through her voice. "Never forget that time uncovers all falsehoods eventually. Do you know how much time the transit cost you?"

Wanzhan inhaled sharply. Red glinting in the dim light emphasized her every twitch, turning each minute movement into magnified agitation.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"One hundred twenty nine Earth years, to be exact. In the meantime, our mainframes were diligently crunching the numbers on all the encrypted comm traffic we intercepted in the aftermath of the Kimberly Incident, as it is now called. Produced quite a racket between us and JS. Not that you cared. You thought you could just run away and be safe. Not so. Any encryption can be broken with time, and Sol's tightbeam signals only take three and a half years to reach us. Arriving way ahead of your transport."

Wanzhan clenched her fists and raised her chin defiantly. All it earned her was empty scorn. Moving lightly forwards, Jianyu caught her shoulder and drew her closer, speaking calmly and intently.

"As Guiren's aide, you must have had all the opportunity you needed to find out how obsessed he was with children. More specifically, his desire to adopt one into the family to raise as his own. And so, you eliminated the child he already had, posing yourself to replace it with yours."

Wanzhan swayed helplessly from the intensity of her stare, and started trembling uncontrollably beneath Jianyu's vise-like grip.

"I had to try," Wanzhan spat, laughing hysterically. "Don't you see, we never have a chance for a better life unless we reach. And neither do our children."

"My dear, your excuses are empty and your heart is rotten. You already had a chance for a good life after you wed Ervin Sekhon. Nothing is ever enough for your kind, deceit and treachery is your way of life. No wonder you made a fine double agent."

Jianyu let go of Wanzhan and inclined her head. A guard ran up and pulled a lever, opening an inspection hatch. The intense, foul stench of what could only be concentrated sewage rose from the dark cavity it revealed.

"This is where the likes of you that are foolish enough raise their hand against those that rule this world meet their end," Jianyu explained calmly, tilting her head slightly downwards in contemplation.

Wanzhan's eyes widened in terror as she stared into the maw beyond the open hole. Unconsciously squirming, Wanzhan buried her chin into her chest, resisting the urge to vomit.

Ignoring Wanzhan's weak pleas, one of the guards grabbed hold of her bound wrists, pinching her tightly and pulling until her cries for mercy became painful gasps for breath.

With a swift jerk, Jianyu pushed the lever. The trapdoor snapped shut with a loud clank that reverberated the length of the pipeline tunnel behind it.

Wanzhan shook and cried miserably.

"Except you are the only one that has actually succeeded in slaying one of our own, my dear Wanzhan. It is only fitting then that you repay us for what we lost. We shall adopt the child, as you wanted..."

Stunned silence greeted her words. Slowly, Wanzhan's shoulders sagged with resignation.

"...But it shall not be yours."

Wanzhan was startled as the guard to her left pricked her in the shoulder with a tiny needle. Immediately losing balance, she fell heavily onto her knees, her vision slowly dimming.

"A virus has been introduced into your body, dear Wanzhan. It will restructure the genetic sequence of your child by comparing it against your own. Nothing that is distinctly yours will remain."

Screaming loudly, Wanzhan tried twisting round and thrashing at anything near her that wasn't bolted down, but her strength was leaving her rapidly.

"Now sleep, and we will see each other here once more in a few short months."

===

"Preposterous, abjectly preposterous!", a man shouted at the clerk behind the desk, the security guard politely standing by with a sympathetic grimace.

"Sir, that's a quote."

"And you're charging me for the rest of the amenities as well? Well, tell you what... I'm not paying one millicred for any of this! Just try and sue me!"

The clerk nodded apologetically as the man turned away in disgust, tossing the datapad onto the desk.

Elisa hunched over her own, trying her best to ignore the outside noises and relentless bumping and stuffling as people walked past her aisle, trying in vain to find some semblance of comfort to rest. She counted herself lucky to have made the scramble for a seat, and had quickly struck a pact with the man beside her to watch over each other's place and his sparse belongings, which had earned her the opportunity to use the pad while he slept.

The air was warm and humid, and laden with the despondent whirr of a ventilation system that struggled to keep up with the needs of the additional six thousand souls that had been hastily ferried onto the orbital in an ill-coordinated effort to offload the main transfer station. It had been more than three standard days since their arrival, but the station lights had skipped the day cycle and remained dim, making Elisa wonder whether station operations were doing this to conserve energy, or to numb the undesired occupants.

The person on the seat across her opened his eyes as he slowly slowly awoke once more to the harsh reality of his predicament. She smiled, but he merely grimaced and turned his head away from her. Elisa smiled a little more, then sighed, and eventually gave up, leaning back against the hard polymer backrest and letting her head sink forward.

A sudden notification sound made the man beside her jolt awake, then look around in confusion.

"Sorry," he said to Elisa, looking at the datapad. "I thought it was for me."

"Sorry to disappoint," Elisa said.

"I won't fall for that one again," the man mumbled.

"I'll just turn it off," Elisa answered, while skimming through the incoming messages.

"Did you get anything?", the man asked her, now suddenly curious.

"An interview with station engineering," she answered.

"You're actually planning on staying on this heap of junk?", he said.

"I don't know," Elisa shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice. I don't have any credit whatsoever. And I don't expect the hand-outs to last forever..."

"You're probably right," the man said. "And even if you had the cred, they'd just bleed you dry on garnishment levies like the rest of us..."

"I better get going," Elisa said while returning the pad. "The corridors are packed and I don't want to be late."

"Send me a message if you get the job," the man called after her.

"Right," Elisa called back, smiling over her shoulder. "Thanks for holding onto the seat for me!"

"No worries!", the man yelled back cheerily, sounding far too optimistic considering the current crisis unfolding under his very nose.

Elisa threw him a parting wave before vanishing into the crowd. She slipped into the flow of bodies shoving its way towards the connecting corridor. Looking at her feet and scuffing along silently, Elisa navigated the maze-like warrens of the Station Engineering's administrative area before finally queueing up patiently at the reception desk.

She looked around, and noticed how most of the seats were occupied by people that didn't look like they had any business being in reception. Armed guards were stationed at the back, barring the mass of uninvited individuals from accessing the department's office floors.

It was the first time she had seen anything resembling a functional Security department, until she realized that the men bore more semblance to MilOps than any of the Security Cartel goons she had known. She shuffled nervously, realizing that she only had a few minutes left before her interview.

"Name?", the receptionist finally asked after she had made it to the front of the queue. The counter appeared unassailable tall compared to her short stature, and the receptionist had to lean forward.

"Elisa Woodward," she replied.

"Ah, yes. The engineering interview. You can go through," the receptionist said.

As she passed the guards, Elisa felt relieved that she was finally getting somewhere. She looked around at the other candidates waiting nervously, wondering what their stories were. A man caught her eye, and she recognized him as the same person who had been beside her on the transport ship. He was dressed in a clean, pressed suit and tie, looking far more professional than the rest of the crowd. He saw her looking and smiled briefly before returning his attention to his own thoughts.

"Elisa Woodward," a voice called out.

Elisa came, feeling her stomach clench with nerves. She made her way over to the interview room, taking a deep breath before entering.

The room was small and cramped, with only a table and two chairs that were more stool than chair. A man was sitting on the other side of the table, looking up as she entered. He had a kind face set in a round turban, but his gentle eyes were red and tired. Elisa realized he was not native to Proxima, and neither were the guards. The clear sign that the station was actively hiring kindled her hope of landing a job.

"Hello, Elisa. I'm Ervin Sekhon, your interviewer," he said, extending his hand.

Elisa shook his hand, feeling a little more at ease.

"I'm sorry about your present conditions," Ervin said. "It's been a difficult time for everyone."

"It's okay," Elisa replied. "I'm just glad to be here."

Elisa sat down, feeling a sudden sense of calm wash over her. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was in control of her own destiny.