_ Hiiro

The conference hall, much like everything else we'd been allotted from the palace, was just plain excessive for our needs. I'm sure a planetary governor would appreciate the grand hall's massive table and fifty-plus seating capacity, but the mercs had shoved the room's furnishings into a corner and built their ops center from scratch. Cables snaked along the floor and walls, antennas and comm dishes cluttered every window, and an absolute mess of electronics filled the gaps. Given the technologically regressed nature of the planet, there was a good chance this jury-rigged command center was the most sophisticated electronics depot for hundreds of kilometers around.

Alice looked up at our approach but made no comment on Bim's appearance. Princess fell in beside Alice, Bim sidled in next to Chop, and I found myself rubbing elbows with an overly-friendly merc named Eric. The dark man flashed a too-white smile but said nothing.

"I've already got the away team linked up through a relay from the Shadow. We're all here so let's get started." Alice announced. Her voice was much like the woman herself, small, unobtrusive and all too easy to miss if you weren't paying attention.

"We've only got voice on this end." Leeroy said over the radios. "If the feed cuts out let me know. Alright, first order of business, intel. There's no shortage of shadowruns targeting Celio on offer in the city's backstreets. I think it's safe to say our initial threat estimates were conservative at best. We've started profiling some fixers and similar middlemen in the hopes we can backtrack to the hostile clients so we can deal with this directly. I've already spoke with our employer regarding some sacrificial pawns we can smash to that end. Next up, the technical overview of prospective vehicles for the Client's motorcade…"

The screens around me flickered between stock photos, wire diagrams and an unending scroll of gibberish that was supposed to be equipment specs. As with most of Leeroy's damned meetings, I just sat quietly and tried to absorb the little bit of info I could. Mostly, that meant I looked at the pictures, but I knew enough about cars to make some sense of all the technical jargon that came droning my way. I could imagine how it would feel to drive each model. I could see their strengths and weaknesses better than some technical diatribe could explain them.

"We're leaning towards six option A's, with enough spare parts to build two more. Thoughts?" Leeroy announced, tuning me back into the conversation.

There was a general murmur of assent from the assembly around me. Option A was obviously a local militia surplus model, the ugly bastard child of a cross-country utility vehicle and a long-haul two-tonne truck. Six huge offroad alloy-mesh tires, deep wheel wells, front and back crash bars, reinforced roll cage, a short cargo bed behind a long passenger cabin and a wide, low profile painted in the local sandstone hues. It wasn't the same, but it was similar to the patrol ground crawlers we'd used to good effect back in my pioneering days. It made sense why the outfit would gravitate towards military hardware, but they'd seemed to miss an important detail.

"Are these cars for us or the Client?" I asked.

"Bit of A, bit of B." Leeroy answered.

"For your purposes, I'd have to agree. We used similar vehicles back on Intatenrup, they were fast, agile and durable, but didn't you say the client wanted a motorcade? Isn't that the reason you're looking for groundcars for him?"

"Skip the lecture, get to your point." Princess said.

"This is about appearances to him. He came out and said as much to us. If we try and shepherd him around in a military convoy, that's not the show of strength he wants. To me that says 'I'm an invader, mess with me and I'll turn my guns on you.' I've taken a peek in his garages, he already has utility vehicles for his men and sports cars for himself. What he doesn't have is…" I swiped through the pictures I'd been studying, fumbling like an idiot until I finally found it. "An armored staff car."

One look and I knew Celio would love it. A man's home said a lot about him and the staff car was the same, over-the-top showboating I'd seen on display all around the palace. It was a white luxury model, separating the driver and shotgun position from the slightly-stretched passenger seating. Everything from the tires to the collapsible silk canopy was uprated, and the exorbitant price tag reflected that. It had all the bells and whistles Celio would want, plus enough armor plating that the mercs couldn't dismiss it out of hand. The rear seating all faced inwards like a hot-tub, with only one door for access when the ballistic-weave roof wasn't folded into the trunk. At a glance, you might be able to comfortably seat six people in the back, maybe twice that uncomfortably.

"You think we should put our paymail in a convertible?" Leeroy asked incredulously.

"What better way to say 'look at me, I'm so unconcerned with my safety, everything must be fine'? At the minimum we should give him the choice; failing that we could use it as a decoy car. I've worked with men like him before— more money than brains and not a gram of practicality in him. If we try and force him into doing something he's against, he'll work around us instead of with us."

"People who work against their security detail usually don't last too long." Chop droned.

"But if they do survive the first bout, they usually get a whole lot more cooperative regarding their safety afterwards." Eric added sinisterly.

There was a lengthy static hiss from the radio as Leeroy considered. "What the hell, it's not like I'm spending our money. I'll add one to the list, finalize the purchases and we'll make it work. Hero, since your so passionate about it, I'm putting you on point for our motor pool."

"I only drove," I said. "I don't really know that much beyond the basic running maintenance."

"That still gives you a leg up on most of us. I'll give you Chop— Gidget too, once we get back. Between the three of you, you should be able to handle any retrofitting we need. Gidget is saying that everything is modular anyway, no training or skill needed. Next up, local armor for his staff…"

It went on and on like that for hours. The long and short of it was Celio's vigia weren't getting power armor since all the local-made warsuits didn't suit our needs; the mercs would also be buying a skycrane and a few aircars too for hauling heavy equipment and manpower respectively. Then he got started on 'strategic intelligence' and 'tactical viability', I lost the thread entirely at that point. The other mercs took it all in stride but I was already wore down from laboring in the sun. It it wasn't for Eric prodding me with his elbow every time I shut my eyes I would have dozed off in my chair. It wasn't as if I knew the first thing about rotarcraft or power armor or tactical doctrine in a densely built up urban setting, it was all too far outside my wheelhouse for me to contribute anything meaningful. I caught little snippets of the discussion before losing it in all the jargon. 'Saturation of force' and 'combat interoperability' meant just as little to me as 'socio-economic factors' and 'ethno-religious cross section' did. It was all noise to me.

They kept talking, my eyes kept drifting shut and Eric's pointed elbow kept battering on my ribs until I'm pretty sure they started bruising. Eventually the hypnotic screen I'd been staring ghoulishly at blinked off and the fog in my brain lifted enough for me to recognize some of the noise as words.

"…keep an eye on those skimmer planes." Leeroy said. "That should be it for now. Anything new to report?"

"Nothing new-new," Alice said. "We're still weeding out the Vigia for soldiers but we're having better luck with the battle maids. Local customs are on our side in that regard at least. Another week and we should be able to hand out some real guns."

"The lethal perimeter is down to thirty-five meters beyond the parkway." Princess added.

"Limit it to at least thirty," Leeroy said with a chuckle. "Any closer and even with directional mines we won't be much better off than the bad guys when they decide to hit us."

"Ugh… fine." Princess groaned. "In that case, we'll be done with basic fortification inside of twenty days at this rate. Call it no later than a month when I factor in burnout and laborers getting drafted to other projects."

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"It's a shame we have to ruin such nice gardens." Alice said, whisper-soft.

"Wait, what about the gardens?" I asked groggily.

"Too much cover and concealment." Princess stated. "Plan is still to clearcut and torch them once we finish with the minefield. There's no place nicer to be then a fortress when the shooting starts. It's only a matter of time before someone tries to off our paymail."

"Aright then. Meeting adjourned; next one's this time tomorrow. Keep up the good work everyone." Leeroy said. The radio's line went dead a second later.

"That was the shortest meeting yet." I commented, barely stifling a yawn. "There's still daylight outside."

"They'll only get shorter. Right up until the shooting starts, then we'll be plotting and scheming until we're on the line with the rest of the outfit." Princess flicked her overlarge eyes from me to Bim.

"Enjoy the boredom while it lasts… The gardens too."

I mumbled something generically agreeable but I barely heard her. I left the conference room and started the long slog back to my room. I didn't have the spare brainpower for anything but a hot meal and a soft bed. A cigarette too. I lit a coffin nail while trying to blink away wire frame afterimages burned into my eyes. Zoe-Esther fell into step behind me right away, as if she'd been waiting outside the ops center the entire time. I hoped she hadn't, but I knew she probably had.

"Would Sir prefer I draw a bath or fetch his twilight meal first?" She asked, matching me step for step.

"Food." I grumbled. "Food and bed. Better yet, food in bed."

She trailed off to go make it happen. As much as I didn't really care for her hanging on my every word, it had its perks. The walk and the smoke helped to shake some life back into me, so I decided to kill some time and take the scenic route back to my room rather than risk being passed out in bed by the time my dinner arrived. I looped wide around to the southern edge of the palace's east wing, gazing out passed the parkway and down at the soon to be demolished gardens. It really would be a shame to burn them all down. We were already making enough of a mess by turning the lawn into a series of minefields.

Celio's palace was shaping up to be a real fortress on its cliffside perch overlooking the lands. If this planet wasn't always so bright and sunny it would have made a cartoonishly sinister set piece to any painting. Between the outer curtain walls, mines, automatic flak turrets, laser sentries, and the soon to be fire-swept killbox, I had to wonder just what the hell the mercs thought was coming to get their charge? Whatever it was, it would meet an ugly abode and an even uglier end when it got here.

I opened the door to my lavish apartment to the smell of grilled meats and fresh-baked flatbreads. True to the letter of my request, Zoe had just placed a heaping platter of sizzling ribs, lean steaks and dripping skewers (along with a healthy portion of things that weren't delicious meat) on the foot of my bed. I looked at the meal's sticky glaze, the dripping fats and lastly to the bed's creamy silks.

"Sorry. I was joking when I said food in bed. The table, please."

Zoe-Esther didn't groan, didn't give a little puff of annoyance, nothing. She just did as I asked. I took my seat and started eating while she stood off to the side, the model image of subservience. The clatter of my gold-plated cutlery punctuated the silence as I ate. For a week now this had been our routine and much like the scraping of my utensils against porcelain, it was rubbing my nerves raw.

"This is quite good." I said around a mouthful of tender pork. "What's it called?"

"Asado, Sir." She answered deferentially.

"Hmm. My compliments to the chef."

Zoe bowed a dipped her skirts. Did she make this? If so she didn't let me know. Once more the silence sparred with the clatter of cutlery as I chewed over my words. Eventually I found my balls and decided on the direct approach.

"I've just spent the past nine hours going over technical specifications, ballistic resistance, power-to-weight ratios and just about every other dull thing you could imagine. Talk to me. Tell me something about yourself. Anything."

"The macante doméstica aren't supposed to-" She started meekly.

"But you're not a house girl anymore, are you?" I interrupted, waggling an empty skewer at her in challenge. "Unless that tan cap of yours is just for show."

"We're… I'm… There's nothing to say about me, Sir." She'd gone rigid as she answered.

She couldn't shift her weight or cross her arms but I could see her locking up, burying Zoe-Esther under her uniform. She was hiding behind the fact that she was a maid and I could read her posture well enough to guess pressing the issue would do more harm than good.

"Okay then… what about Celio? Are you allowed to talk about him? Why's he so special?"

My question rocked her like a slap, she even took a step back to catch herself. Zoe's impeccable maid facade shattered for a split second as she tried to grasp my question. I might as well asked 'why the sun is hot?' or 'where do babies come from?' based on her reaction. I had just questioned her entire world. Then the second passed and she wasn't Zoe-Esther the fanatic, she was my subservient maid once more.

"I shouldn't say…" She hesitantly started before reaching some internal compromise under my watchful gaze. "Celio taught my family how to read. Not person to person, but he built the school my entire family went to. He repaired the old temples and helped restore faith to the people of the city. I remember when there was a terrible drought, he called upon the stars to deliver food and science to aid the people. That was the first time I'd ever seen a space man, and now he has summoned you again to help us. What he has blessed upon us should be shared with the everyone. Celio is going to save the world!"

The longer she spoke the more fervently she did so until her final remark leapt from her lips like a true believer shouting gospel. I could see that she meant it, and it amazed me that under such a straight up and down maid there could be such a passionate zealot. It made me wonder what else she kept buried under that mask all day.

"Yeah, he said that to us too, but that's not exactly miraculous. He's just spending money by the ton. What does it even mean to save the world? That's way too big picture for me to wrap my head around. It's not like there's a giant asteroid he can blow up and that's that."

I saw her struggling with the question, battling against two conflicting identities. I left her to it, sneaking peeks between bites, sometimes seeing the diligent maid and others seeing the devout believer. I picked away at my meal wondering if this was another culture gap too big to be bridged. I started thinking about her 'saving the world' as my 'blizzard on the tundra'. We could each explain it but without the right experiences to build from, there was no way to make the other person understand it.

"Do you know what the last part of my name means?" Zoe asked, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper so quiet I had to stop chewing to hear it.

"Esther?" I shook my head. I saw something flit under the surface of her eyes, something she couldn't let slip into the light of day.

"De Terra. It means… It- It's why I want to be more than just a serving girl. Because Celio is the one giving me and people like me that chance. He alone has scattered a million small kindnesses to the people of the land when the world we toil for offers us nothing but hardship. His dream is worth fighting for! It may be above my station but I want to do my part to help realize his dream. I want my world to be saved; compared to that, my life is nothing."

"And that's what makes him special? This dream of his?"

Zoe didn't answer but there was a fire in her eyes that said all it needed to and more.

"It's easy to preach about saving the world, but I just don't see it. Not from all the way up here."

"Then why are you helping us?" Zoe muttered under her breath.

She blinked in shock before looking aghast with herself. I was glad she asked, pleased to see her standing up for herself and her convictions. I'd seen more of the person Zoe-Esther actually was under that frilly uniform in the past few minutes than I had in the week she'd been prowling in my shadow.

Zoe-Esther on the other hand, was mortified. The diligent maid clamping down hard on the woman underneath that uniform. She bowed, lifting her skirts and made to leave the room in as close to a dead sprint as decorum allowed.

"Wait!" She froze as if I'd chained her to the spot, my words alone just as effective as a lashing. "Sorry. You don't have to stay if you don't want. I'm just trying to understand."

She didn't leave, but she hovered near the door. That was answer enough for me.

"I can't really speak for all the mercs in the outfit, but I don't really have a choice. I made some poor decisions recently and now I'm getting dragged along by the consequences. I don't really know why I'm here but I'm trying to figure it out. I guess you could say that's why I'm helping, because I want to find the answers I'm looking for. Truth be told, I'm jealous of you."

That got her turned around. Decorum wouldn't permit her to gawk at me but she gave my dinner platter far more scrutiny than the picked bones merited on their own.

"I wish I had something to believe in like you do. You have a reason to fight, a dream to chase. You have faith, and that's something I've never had. It's pretty selfish to admit, but if Celio and his dream can inspire that in you… well, I guess that's why I'm putting my back into this with you instead of dragging my feet."

Zoe stood stock still for a time, staring down at my empty platter. The girl had a hell of a poker face, she'd probably give Bim a run for her money if the two of them ever played a few hands. I couldn't see a single gear turning behind her eyes but I knew they were, not that I knew if that bode well or ill. I suspected this was the first real measure of each other we'd both got. I liked the young woman hiding under that frilly uniform, and I hoped that she didn't find me wanting either.

"Will you require anything else of me before you retire for the evening?" Zoe asked, finally meeting my eyes.

"Not a thing, thank you. Goodnight, Zoe-Esther."

"Goodnight, Hiiro."