Lukira Azhan briskly strode down a long, whitewashed, and unadorned hallway. It was entirely boring, a facet she had come to understand embodied most of the Magnocracy structures.

Alongside her, a weasel-like man struggled to match her pace white prattling off the details of her supply order. To their left, two sections of the wall peeled apart to reveal a small room that they turned into without pause.

From the floor inside rose five podiums, upon each of which sat a beautiful golden ring. Each was adorned with a single blue gem that glittered like tiny stars. These, at least, were spared from the Magnocracy’s thematic dullness.

The podiums stopped rising a few inches above waist height. Lukira grabbed one as the man beside her continued to impassionately spout numbers and figures that would make most people weak at the knees.

“... five hundred portions of cosmic-attuned adamantite, fifty crates of dwarf-star silver, one thousand warp-class fuel cell arrays, two hundred—” A blinding silver light interrupted his report as Lukira opened a visible hole in the ring’s pocket dimension.

The man beside her was momentarily speechless as she then poured her consciousness into the space and began counting the materials held within.

“Captain Lukira! I must say, this is entirely unbecoming.” The shock in his voice was not held back in the slightest.

“Sorry, not sorry, Nate. This wouldn’t be the first time I got stiffed today.” She was a little annoyed that he adamantly called her ‘Captain’ Lukira, but she supposed that old friendships died hard.

Or rather, friendships that never really began after decades of working together were probably doomed to never begin in the first place.

Annoyed but otherwise satisfied with the ring, she closed the floating portal with a small flash of light. Unhesitantly, she slid another of the rings onto a different finger and opened it in a similar fashion.

As her eyes narrowed in concentration, Nate snorted willfully.

“Do you truly think the logistics faction would be so uncouth?” As a proud member of the logistics department, Nate Huanderia was appalled that Lukira thought so little of them after how hard he tried to make sure they stayed on her good side over the years.

“Hah!” She closed her latest pocket dimension with a bark of laughter, then slipped on the third of the five rings. “Did you know that someone from intel tried to hide an active Voidweaver nest from me? Thankfully my ship isn’t so incompetent as to ignore the free money only a few hours away from our most direct course.”

Nate shook his head with an expressionless face. The infighting and politics of the Magnocracy were pathetically ruthless to their own, though he was unable to comment.

For one, it was above his station. As a manager, Nate could barely be considered middle management in the logistics department.

For another, he sincerely believed that the logistics faction was removed from such political strife. After all, the Magnocracy would fall apart if they began acting partisan.

It was thus with this belief that he gazed sourly upon Lukira’s concentrated face as she searched through the fourth ring. The logistics department handled the supply for every expedition sanctioned by headquarters and prided itself on total reliability and accuracy.

What Lukira was doing right now was spitting in the face of centuries of perfection, which bothered Nate in spite of their relationship.

Which was purely a respect-based working relationship, much to Nate’s chagrin. In the beginning he had held onto hope that the small-time leader of a newly-turned band of mercenaries would fall for him, seeing as they worked together frequently.

Her rise in the ranks of the Magnocracy had been meteoric however, and in the span of a few decades she had become unimaginably powerful. Powerful enough to level the entire logistics department, her beautifully silver eyes glittering with cosmic force as her muscular form commanded raw energy to obliterate her surroundings.

He had come to terms with his lost opportunity years ago though.

Or so he told himself.

Lukira chuckled and passed him the fifth ring, which she must have inspected while he was distracted. “If you’re done ogling,” she said with a hint of mirth, “this one is missing a fourth of the crystalized mysticite. See to it that it makes its way to my ship within the hour, Nate. Do it yourself if you have to.”

His jaw dropped open as she watched her leave. Who dared to steal a fourth of that woman’s mysticite? Someone with that much power surely had the ability to replace one little logistics manager.

Was it some bigwig from another faction? Or worse, someone from his own?

Nate gulped as he realized he may soon find out.

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She left Nate a final wish for good health before fleeing back down the hall, which he waved away worriedly. If she didn’t know him better, Lukira would have sworn she heard him swear right before she left the room.

What she could swear by was that Nate, being an absolute stickler for rules and guidelines, would see to it that her fifth ring of supplies was delivered on time and intact. So long as he remained intact himself, at least. The likelihood of him losing his life was slim enough though, and Lukira could always treat him to a drink next time.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The man would certainly enjoy it, and she would enjoy spending some time in the company of an old almost-friend. He wasn’t the first man to give up pursuing her as a result of her newfangled station and individual power, but he was one of the few who did so out of respect and not fear.

She could appreciate that.

And so, they would drink and chat and go their separate ways again when she returned, wherever that would be.

She sighed in a mixture of frustration and surrender as she stalked down the hall. The expressionless white walls opened up on her left side to reveal the expanse of the Magnocratic Capital Station. Countless ships from large freight transporters to small people transporters flitted about in the dense three dimensional space.

The MCS, as Lukira preferred to call it to avoid the absolute mouthful that the full name was, orbited one of the Middle Sector’s greatest Divine Vestiges. It was visible just beyond the towering spire-like structures that housed up to a million people each, even through the busy air-space of the station.

A glittering field of pure divine energy so dense it collated into a world unto its own, the Divine Field before her was as mysterious as it was magnificent. From it spewed enough raw energy to power the entire station multiple times over, the surplus of which allowed the Magnocracy to enchant special materials far better than most other Middle Sector organizations.

She had spent the last few decades patrolling its expanse and hunting for resources when not abroad on other missions. It was a place her and her crew knew like the back of their hands, and was home to numerable friends and not a few foes.

Lukira was sad to leave, but the MCS would never be her home. She wanted to go to the Inner Sectors, where Divine Fields such as this one were infinitesimally small. How could a single field compare to a place where fields were more prevalent than space itself?

She could only wonder what such a place would even be like as, in truth, she had no idea what to expect. Very few people who ever went bothered to return, and those who did spoke little of its splendor.

Trying to not entice the rabble, she supposed. Lukira would still go, of course. That much was certain. It was the promise she had made to her crew, which was the only true family and home she felt like she still had.

But those were future plans.

For now, she had to be ready to struggle tooth and nail against everyone else stuck in the mire of the Middle Sectors, let alone her own faction. The ruthless infighting that Nate seemed so dismissive of was a constant dagger pressed against her back.

This whole mission to reclaim a newly reintegrated planet at the edge of the Multiverse was proof enough that it had reached a boiling point. It currently presented her with two options.

In the best case scenario, she would return a few years later with a top tier Seed planet’s worth of resources and individuals. This would be a great boon to herself and the factions that supported her in the Magnocracy, as the reintegration of Seeded planets always produced great results.

In the worst case scenario, she would return just over a year later to a tarnished reputation, stolen assets, and a greatly delayed move to the Inner Sectors. They could be held back by decades if they were particularly unlucky and the ones aiming for her back particularly ruthless.

Which they were.

It was a gamble that she didn’t want to take. That she didn’t need to take.

But it was forced into her hands nonetheless.

Probably by the militaristic red faction that absolutely loathed the fact she wasn’t one of their brainless lackeys. She had the brawn for it, sure, and certainly the attitude. The wholesale slaughter of planets for resources however wasn’t really her cup of tea.

Her current situation was the best that Mystic Jinquir Relestand, the insightful leader of her blue faction, could do to keep them from trying this sooner. She could only hope that his foresight extended to her current mission, and that Archaeon’s planet would more likely be a boon for her future. Unfortunately, he was currently unable to be contacted.

“Fucking politics,” she grumbled under her breath as she turned away from the view.

Lukira was honest enough with herself to admit that the inner workings of the Magnocracy were out of her depth, even though they tended to screw her over more often than not. All she knew were the names and faces of her numerous enemies.

She would either subdue them, or grow powerful enough to be out of their reach.

In comparison to that eternal struggle, Lukira found her present romantic troubles utterly inconsequential. Romance could wait, she found herself thinking as she marched down the hallway.

“Romance can wait, romance can wait…” She repeated audibly as her frustration built for the umpteenth time. It would help if she could feel it too, though she knew that day would never come.

She wondered listlessly if anyone would believe that the Silver Destroyer of the Magnocracy had never even dated, let alone kissed anyone. She was either too busy to entertain the idea, too powerful for others to entertain the idea, or too turned off by someone’s political scheming.

It was a never ending cycle of her own personal making.

A buzzing in her ear alerted her to a voice call from her ship, which she immediately picked up.

“Captain, the ship has been maintenanced and the crew is ready to go.” Mina’s voice dutifully reported from the other end, having taken care of everything that didn’t need Lukira’s personal attention. A sudden question came unbidden into her mind, and she found herself asking it before she knew what she was doing.

“Hey Mina, would you marry me if I asked?” No, no no no no no no! Damn her wandering thoughts, why would she even ask that? She stumbled her pace as her assistant’s curious voice replied over their communicator.

“Captain?” That’s right, Mina was a cosmic elemental integrated into a starship. Her starship. The impropriety of asking that of a subordinate rattled her. Even with Mina’s burgeoning personality, Lukira was positive there was no precedent for anything like that.

“Nevermind, just a random question. You’ve done well. Tell the crew we leave in an hour thirty. I’ll be with you shortly.” Almost abruptly, she hung up the call. Romance was hard. In comparison, she would much rather be back in outer realms unleashing wave after wave of cosmic force with her fists.

Fighting was much easier.

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In the control room of Captain Azhan’s starship, a lone holographic figure began fidgeting nervously in her seat. Across her face, a light flush slowly spread. Normally, she would have suppressed such characteristics.

But now? Now she was alone and... nervous? She pressed a hand against her chest and delved into the strange feelings held within.

Was this what humans called butterflies? Mina was not entirely sure, but she ran a number of calculations as quickly as ever. Multiple possible scenarios played through in her head in a matter of seconds.

When her preparations were complete, she decisively sent an invoice to a certain company. Along with it were specifications on her metrics and a small holographic representation of herself.

She was going to have to expedite another order.