Storm Mage; Chapter Two

"Tala!  The Maid's were saying that you had a private audience with Father.  Is it true?  Did you talk to him?"
Tala's sister, her only full blood relative besides her father, was sitting in her usual spot next on the balcony with her knitting and a book, 'Illusions for the Royal or Mildly Paranoid'.  Unlike, and in many ways because of, Tala, Niste had become a proper princess.  To the rare human visitor to the court, it was obvious that she was the prize to be won if one was to try and marry into the family.  She was feminine, delicate, looked good in a dress and knew it.  She had wavy blonde hair that came down to her shoulders and shimmered like good silk, and even though she was several years younger than Tala, she was both taller and curvier.  And that was all before she broke into her vast supply of magical illusions and mystic alterations.
Of course the Nielda didn't think of a princess as someone you married off.  A princess was someone you expected to lead armies into battle and come home victorious.  A princess didn't have to be pretty, she had to be smart and able to run a country when her parents passed.  And when a delegate from the Imperial Guard had visited the Summer Palace on Gasca, where both Tala and Niste had lived their whole lives, he had still assumed that Niste was the princess.  Because when you boiled it all down, Tala was the shortest person in the court, and people expected to look up to their leaders.  Especially in her family, lead by the tallest man in the empire.

"It's true, I talked to him.  He wanted to make me an offer."
Niste set her knitting aside and jumped up to face her sister.
"And?  Is he going to protect us?"
"He'll protect you."
"What about you?  What'll you do?"
"I'm goin to command his troops.  I leave for trainin in the morning."
Tala could see her sister catch her crest as it fell and compose herself.  Much as they both disliked it, the guard had been right, Niste would make a much better princess than she would.  Even if it didn't convey strength, strength wasn't all people wanted to see when bad news was delivered, a little bit of weakness said just as much as years of strength.  Tala never would've been able to give them that, but Niste couldn't stop herself.  She'd do well at court, it was where she'd always been meant to be.  Tala wished she could say the same of herself.
"But who will protect you if I'm not around?"
Tala laughed and hugged her sister.  They both knew she needed no help taking care of herself.  Niste was an illusionist and even dabbled in enchanting, but Tala could kill men with her stare and stop light in its tracks if she tried.  The only thing that had given Niste the peace to wear dresses and knit her, whatever you called them, was Tala's ability to fight off anyone, and there were many, who tried to hurt them.  It was that strength that had gotten their father's attention, and it was that strength that would keep her safe.
"I guess we'll both have to trust our father's men to take care of things."
They both retired to their own seperate chambers for the night.  The suite they lived in was three rooms and the balcony.  It was luxurious, but small by palace standards.  And alongside access to the Palace facilities, it had given the two of them enough room to stay out of each other's hair, while still keeping them close.  Tala was pleased to find that her father was a man of his word, as she could detect, though only barely, that there were two guards posted on the balcony, and another at the door.  With that knowledge, she slept more soundly than she had for many years.

"Have you got my cloak?"
"The green one or the blue one?"
"I was thinkin the gray one."
"You want to go into battle in Gray?  But its so droll and uninspiring."
"Yeah, but it'll stand up to the weather better than the rest would.  Have to be practical about this sort of thing."
Niste sighed and opened the closet.  Tala never went in herself, Niste had much better choice in clothes than she did.  If it was up to her, she'd have marched into her father's court in jeans and a T-shirt.  All these formalities just seemed like a lot of nonsense as far as she was concerned.  But Niste liked them, so she tolerated it.  She'd have done anything for her sister.
"So if you're wearing the gray cloak, I think we should go with the dark blue blouse, the loose one, and black trousers.  And a swordbelt, even though you haven't got a sword to wear with it.  It'll give you kind of a swashbuckler sort of look, and I think it'll go great with your hair."
Tala tried to picture it, but she'd always had a bit of trouble visualizing and couldn't quite wrap her mind around it.  Niste brought the indicated articles of clothing out and did a little tiddly thing with her hands.  Tala had never really understood why Niste preferred the tiddly movements over a simple brushing gesture, but she did and ultimately they both got her in and out of clothes without her having to figure out how all of the laces and clasps worked so she wasn't going to complain.  Niste conjured up full length mirror and moved to Tala's side to get a proper look at it.
"How'd I do?"
"You're right, it would look better with a sword.  But I do like it."
Niste pulled her hair back as gently as she could, which wasn't as gently as she thought it was, and began to tie it into a pony tail.  It wasn't easy, and it hurt a bit.  Tala did not take nearly as good of care of her hair as Niste did, and it was frizzy and tangled.  People had always said it had the potential to be extraordinarily pretty if she put some effort in, but Tala just had other things she was more concerned about, like keeping Niste and herself alive.  Finally she felt a last few stray hairs being pulled as a fancy jeweled clasp was locked in place at the end of her hair, it barely weighed anything but it still rested against her back and Tala would've never admitted to her sister how uncomfortable she found it.
"There, now you look just like Petra herself, a right swordswoman."  Niste was beaming, and Tala wondered if anyone else would have been able to tell how she really felt.
"I'll miss you Niste.  Who will protect me from my bad fashion sense and poor hygiene when you aren't around?"
"I'm sure you'll meet a nice man with a good sense of style and class up the wazoo."
"What's a wazoo and why would class be coming out of it?"
"Oh its the sort of small pitcher they put the..."
Niste was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"I'm here to escort Miss Tala to the shuttle.  Are you both decent?"
"No, but we're both dressed."
The door opened and a gruff looking gentleman stepped in.  He looked to be in his hundred and fifties, judging by the gray of his mutton chops and the tone of his skin.  He wore an oblong hat that was as wide at the top as at the brim, but much smaller in between, and a uniform that had been kept clean, decorated with the sort of medals only obtained by getting dirty.
"The name's Coleridge, David Coleridge.  But you can call me Chops, or David, or Colonel Coleridge.  I even respond to Colonel Mustard sometimes, if I'm not hearing well or the wife's not around.  I'll be your Executive Officer, and top adviser."
"I thought I was going to trainin?"
"You are, of a sort, strategic command the old fashioned way, by watching us old hats until you feel ready to pitch in yourself an' what-like."
"You mean, By commandin actual troops?"
"Yes, I believe that was what your father meant when he told me to get you out into the field as soon as possible."
Tala could feel Niste's grip on her cloak tighten.  This wasn't what either of them had expected.

Storm Mage; Chapter One

The way of the warrior, it was said, was to know the peace within thyself.  Only through that peace could one hope to weather those without.
Tala was a warrior, no one would question that.  But she'd never really felt at peace.  Perhaps it was the fact that the Empire had not seen peace in her Grandfather, dead before her birth, or father's combined lifetimes.  And mind you that was adding the totals, not counting it based on their reigns as most did.  She often reassured herself that this was coincidence, and had nothing to do with her Great-Grandfather's reputation as a selfish brute who had no qualms about ordering the deaths of any imperial family member who would have managed to keep the empire as stable as it supposedly still was.  Such a notion was, as her ambitious mother had often put it, preposterous.
Or perhaps it was her family life.  After her mother's untimely death, which most of the court would forever insist was an unfortunate hunting accident, she'd been left the responsibility of keeping her younger sister safe.  In most families this would have been relatively safe; a stern warning that fire was very hot and making sure they didn't run with scissors, but in Tala's family, that meant killing assassins and exposing plots by jealous relatives, and overzealous off-worlders.  In short, she'd learned not to trust anyone, and further still she'd learned the most expeditious manners in which to dispose of anyone or thing that she could no longer justify continuing to allow to exist.  Most of the court had learned to stay on her good side, the rest just kept in mind how they'd gotten their job and stayed out of sight.  It had made her teenage years rather lonely, and her adult ones more so.  But if she wasn't happy, she was at least glad to be alive enough to answer the question.  And at the end of the day, that was the important part.

Of course, the skills that had kept her alive had also gotten her noticed by her father.  King Than of Gasca was, and this was no exaggeration, one of the most imposing presences in all Nieldic history.  He was literally a foot taller than the next tallest Nielda in the Empire, every one of his eight and a half feet covered in markedly defined muscle.  He was broad, and wore armor even to fancy parties.  And above all else, he valued strength.
Tala was strong, but the family resemblance vanished there.  She was short, and not simply compared to her Giant of a father.  At five and a half feet, she was the shortest person in the court.  Even her younger sister, now sixteen herself, stood at nearly seven foot.  She was also slight of build, like a willow in a forest of redwood.  Visitors often remarked that she was the most beautiful thing in the palace, but Tala felt that in any less masculine a setting, they'd have felt otherwise.  She held only one trait to be attractive about herself; her long, chestnut colored hair.  It was her favorite part of herself, Aesthetically speaking, and the only thing she ever paid special attention to.  And when her Father had called her into his presence, it was the first thing about her which he noticed.

"Tala, daughter of Gorra, my third wife."
"Yes your majesty."  Tala curtsied politely.  Not as politely as was probably expected of those entering his presence, but enough to seem an honest mistake.
"The rest of you, leave us.  I wish to speak with my daughter."  The room emptied quickly.  It was not merely his appearance which drove fear into the hearts of the assembled, and Tala had not gotten her ruthless efficiency from her mother.
When the had all gone, Than stepped down from his throne and set his hand on her shoulder.  With the other her raised her chin.
"You have your mother's hair, and her skin as well.  But I can see you have the fire of a warrior in your eyes, and if my captain is to be believed, you have the ferocity of Tara under five moons."
"I'm sorry sir, I was only seekin to keep my sister safe."
"I see.  Then my Captain and his men have not protected you?"
"If they have, I haven't seen it.  All due respect."
"I see."  Than began to pace in front of her.  His face was not the sort that represented anything but anger with real clarity, but she could tell that he was considering the situation carefully.  "Tala, I have a proposition for you.  I shall send my own men to watch over your sister."
"Thank you sir!"
"And in exchange, you will take up the rightful place of a warrior like yourself.  You see, we have many enemies who will not be swayed by reason or a steady hand, and for that we maintain an army.  I want you to stand at the head of this army, lead it into battle and show our enemies that we are not to be triffled with.  Do these terms seem agreeable to you?"
Tala thought of her time with TacSim, and her years of fighting assassins and the like.  She could do it, and it would certainly be to her liking.  Than was a man of his word, and she knew he would fulfill his end of the bargain and protect Lysstrelle as well as she had.  There was really no reason to say no, not that it had ever truly been an option to begin with.
"It would be my honor, Father."

Short Story; Frostfall

The Stone Henges were said to have been set by the Sons of Cain in the days before even the Nielda had begun to travel through the stars.  They could be found on every major species' homeworld, save that of the Nielda, and even the homeworlds of most of the less important species.  But they were also found on thousands, if not millions of worlds that had been home only to trees, grass, and rodents, who the Sons of Cain may well have brought with them.  The first one that the Nielda had found had been on Appeni, known even after the Frostbourne war as a garden world.  It had been found by the sage of that world, a woman named Ceanne.  But on the records, the first one discovered was found three years later on Decidua, the homeworld of the Ga-Vok.
The first explorers had discovered the greatest property of the stones that very same day.  In trying to escape the Ga-Vok, the team's mage had tried to set wards on the stone circle, already a safe point as a result of its location and design.  Instead, he managed to trigger the magic already set upon the stones and found that they projected an impenetrable barrier.  Thousands of years later, a Gascan princess and general tried to breach one of these barriers, causing incredible damage to the surrounding hillside and permanently altering her own appearance.  Her name was Tala, and she always referred to it as one of her only two failures in life.
They had other properties too.  While the barrier was active they could generate enough food to satisfy the hunger of their inhabitants.  Waste, excrement and otherwise, seemed to magically non-exist within the barrier.  And there was always your first choice of beverage on the altar stone.  And none of it seemed to be affected by any of the laws that normally governed those sorts of enchantments.  There was no power source, save perhaps the stones themselves, and none of it seemed to come from or go too anywhere.  Official statements from both top enchanters and scientists, and the military, stated that this was clearly a divine or 'natural' magic.  

Of course, this wasn't the first stone circle that Kate Immersfeld had encountered.  She'd basically done her dissertation on the matter, and this one defied any of her prior knowledge.  The stones were cracked, and the altar was riven.  But those were merely physical problems, any team of Imperial Guard relic restoration specialists could have fixed that.  The problem was that the magic felt wrong.
Now magic was not generally a natural thing, so its hard to say that it ever felt right.  But this was a particular, and she found this part especially bothersome, familiar sort of wrong.  She'd felt it on her trip to visit the circle on Anatolia, the whole planet felt like this.  The Library at the Arcane Academy felt somewhat like this, but more muddled.  It was the way a demon's magic felt.  And even on Anatolia the circle had felt, for lack of a better word, shiny.  But here it felt rather the way that a black hole behaved, like a puncture in the fabric of whatever it existed in.  You felt drawn towards it, but it was also dangerous to get too close.
But if Arcania, for so she called herself, was anything, it was curious.

"ZeeGee, you want to have a look?"
The cold around her coalesced into a sort of man shaped white mist.  The Frost King, who's true name she alone knew, would have been more than a match for most any threat that faced them.  But Arcania knew that the same could have been said of her, for she had studied magic her whole life, and had the strength and skill to kill nearly anything that they would face.
Including, as she had proven in the past, a demon.
"My lady, I do not believe that would be wise.  This presence is powerful beyond anything we have encountered in the past.  I do not wish to see you come to harm."
"Oh dear, is it really that powerful?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Then I guess we'll just have to both go."  And she climbed over the fallen stone and into the circle proper.  ZeeGee fell weirdly silent, although she was aware of his yelling to her.  The rest of the world seemed so far away all of a sudden, like it was another plane of existence.
"Good.  Good.  Just as Legion predicted.  I am glad all my years of waiting shall finally pay off."
"Hello Demon.  Shall we start by you telling me your name and end with me banishing you from existence?"
"Overconfident, bold, and powerful are three of my favorite traits in an immortal.  You have them all.  You shall do quite well as the figurehead for my armies." 
"And you'll be a fine story to tell my sisters.  Are we going to stand her all day or will you just stand there talking like my mother?"
Arcania had been too involved in the banter and she realized it as the first blow came.  Not from in front of her, where a shadowy giant stood, but from behind.  A tendril of darkness caught her by the leg and flung her against the stones.  She lashed out with a flurry of sharp, icy blades, severing the tendril and a dozen like it.  She erected a barrier against the rest and incanted a series of wards against demonic assault.  But they all fell away as soon as they'd been incanted.  The circle's enchantments hadn't just been broken, they'd been inverted!  She couldn't get out, she couldn't be protected, and she was starting to feel hungry.
"I like your trap, its very clever."
"Oh do you now?  I rather hoped you'd appreciate it, I've put a lot of thought into how I'd bring you under my domination."
Arcania sundered the earth beneath his feet, forcing him to unfurl his vast leathery wings.  A hail of her favored frozen flechettes cut through them and she joined them with a wave of raw arcane energy.  His wings were left tattered, though still functioning, but he brushed off her magical onslaught with little regard for the effect it would have had on any other manner of being.  But that was as she expected for a demon, its main purpose was to occupy the monster's vision while she prepared a ray of light.  And as the demon's form showed through the blast, she loosed the pure white ray.  It missed the demon's heart, but tore through its abdomen.  She could hear its bones splinter as her blast glanced off of them.  It howled in pain, but it was not beaten.  She found herself barely able to shield herself against the barrage of corrupted bolts that it cast, and as she deflected one beam of devastating power after the next she tripped over another one of the Shadithic tendrils that emanated from the circle itself.  The Demon caught her under a press of shadowy power, and the last thing she remembered seeing was the hatred in its eyes and the black blood flowing from the wound she'd dealt it.

Star Haven; Departure

"Commander, what did the envoy have to say?"
"We have a heading.  We're going to track down a beacon, rescue an immortal, and change the course of this war."
"That's all the answer we get, isn't it?"
"I didn't get much more.  And I'm not really sure what to make of the rest of it.  The important thing is that I know who we're looking for, and I know how to get there.  Is the crew all aboard?"
"The last shuttle just docked.  We can leave as soon as..."
Natalya tuned out the rest of the details.  They were just procedure.  She turned her attentions to the navigational computer.  The display booted up slowly, adding individual points of light to a circular orb.  It was a representation of the entire known universe.  Tradition dictated that the center of any map was Krove, home of the Arcane Academy, and crossed by more intergalactic level ley lines than any other known planet.  A line drawn between it and the homeworld of the Nielda, and capitol of the Empire, marked galactic north.  A line drawn from Tara in the east to Medea in the west completed the compass.  By some coincidence, the whole series of planets were roughly level with each other, anything above Krove's north pole would be up, and below its south pole was down.  Over the years, the known universe had gotten somewhat lumpy.  Seclora  and Gravaga both occupied vast expanses to the south, and the Harakai war had lead to the mapping of billions of star systems beyond Seclora's southern borders.  Both the Harakai and Ga-Vok held tracts of space just north of the empire, and slightly up.  Humanity lived primarily just east and west of the empire, with the heaviest concentrations just to the north of Gravaga's holdings.
The Djin's location was marked on the map by a little purple dot.  Natalya reached into her pocket and pulled out the compass she'd been given by Empress Thalia earlier.  It still pointed forty degrees up, north-northwest.  She drew an open ended line from the purple dot using the compass to keep it even.  The computer automatically registered the line as the heading for subspace travel, a necessity for a search.  Normally she'd have plotted a tesser jump, simply submitting a destination and engaging.  But without a certain destination, a fact that seemed odd considering that the beacon was still active, such a jump was impossible.  Besides, subspace left more potential to react to enemy movements, and it let them gather invaluable scans on their surroundings.
"Sir? You ready to depart?"
"I think you'll find that our course has been laid in.  Inform command that we've departed and lets get under way."
"At once commander."

Star Haven; The Envoy

"You probably don't know who I am..."
"The Dark Lady."
Thalia rolled her eyes.  "Alright, so you do know who I am.  Books, show, or politics?"
"Books, show, and politics."
"Ah, so you're a fan then.  Not of me personally I expect, but probably of someone in the family.  What've you got in your pockets?"
"Multi-tool, rope, wallet, a few trinkets, and a much loved copy of 'Adventures of the Lost Princess'."
The Empress of Gravaga chuckled and paced at the other end of the room.  "It would be, wouldn't it?  Petra you old hag, never would leave well enough alone, would you?"  She lightly brushed the air and pulled a copy of the book from it.  " 'Adventures of the Lost Princess' by Petra Laerdsfeld.  If anyone ever knew a lost princess, it was her.  I think she's been abusing the gate or something; no way she could have known all of this so long ago."  She sat down on a very soft looking throne that rose from the deck to meet her.  "But in any case, I'm sure you'll find the circumstances quite familiar.  You'll play only a small part I'm afraid, but a part that many things hinge upon.  The General, who I didn't need magic to bewitch by the way, gave you a proper briefing already.  The form I used to sneak in here undetected is that of the immortal you seek, Hariel.  Your crew will be able to supply you with all the needed documentation to confirm her identity when you locate her beacon.  Finding her will be...comparatively easy.  That is to say, you will enter the blizzard unopposed.  But you will leave it in the face of the full might of Arcania's fleets, and I fear she may even deign to stop you herself."  There was saddness in her mention of Arcania.  A shared history perhaps; maybe Arcania was one of the villains she had brought up herself, only to have her go rogue.
"We'll punch through and bring her back.  I've never let anything stand between me and an objective before."
"That's why we picked you.  There are only a few I would rather entrust with this mission; Hal, Kate herself, a few others who are not yet, some who are no longer, but you are here and you can succeed."  Thalia set a packaged down on the table and walked to the door.  She traced a pattern on the frame and when she opened the door it opened into a hallway full of large, breakable urns and racks of weapons.  "Its not from me.  A much better enchanter decided to give you something to help you find your way in the storm.  I think you should be sure to thank him some day."  And she closed the door behind her.
Natalya watched the pattern smolder and then turned to face the only physical trace of the Dark Lady's visit.  It was a small package, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string.  She gingerly untied it and opened the box inside.
It was a compass.  It was a three dimensional compass, the sort that always pointed directly at the nearest magnetic north.  Handy if you knew how to use it, and she did, but mostly a novelty.  It came with a note, in unfamiliar handwriting.  It was very nice, whoever's it was.  She could tell they'd put some time into working on their penmanship.  It read simply; 'It will always show you where you're needed most.  I know that one day it shall point only to home.'
It pointed Forty degrees up, north northwest.  She took a deep breath and restrained the urge to send a letter to her mother saying that she'd just met Thalia, and she was even better dressed in person.  She had her heading, she had her orders, and she had her ship.  Now all she had to do was use them.

Star Haven; Suspicions

"Commander, a strange woman is waiting for you in the briefing room.  Her documentation checked out, but we've run it through to the Guard to have it double-checked."
"Well done Jenson."  Natalya accepted the file that her Executive Officer, Colonel Helix Jenson, handed her.  He was a stalwart lad, good soldier.  His entire family was in the fleet somewhere or other, and she knew he'd already lost a nephew in delaying actions out on the fringe of civilized space.  It gave him scale, a means of converting the threat from a mere 'destroy the known universe' into a more personal 'destroy the part of the universe I know'.  Most people didn't make that distinction, not consciously, but it was the difference between doing your duty because you said you would, and doing it because you wanted to.  She respected that difference, and it was one of the reasons she'd picked him to serve under her.  The other reason was that he was exceptionally good at his job; men did what he ordered them to do, and he had no problems conveying orders that didn't make a great deal of sense at the time or which seemed dangerous.  Natalya could come up with the plans, and they nearly always worked, but she lacked the presence needed to get men to override their fears and do things.  At least in part, it was simply because at seven foot eight inches, he had a good foot on your average Nielda.  Combined with a stocky build and well defined musculature, most of the crew were simply unwilling to cross him.  The rest quickly found that he had a voice as strong as his body, and the ability to use his words like a scalpel, cutting through red tape and all but the most resolute arguments.  Conversely, Natalya was barely an inch over six foot, had tried her best to put on muscle mass and achieved nothing, and was easily frustrated when faced with debate.  To worsen it all, she was assured by all of her superiors, family members, and friends both romantic and otherwise that she was down right adorable when she got angry.  It didn't make her any less capable a commander; her brains and skills were more than adequate for most tasks, but it did not make her especially fearsome, nor did it instill obedience in her men.  Not coming up to her XO's armpit didn't help her any, but at least she could be certain they'd listen to him.
"Commander, if I may have a word before you meet with this woman?"
"Yes Jenson, of course."
"I believe our guest may be...out of the league of our security personnel."
"And why is that?  Is she a Guard or something?"
"I recognize her from..You may find this somewhat improper commander, but I believe our guest bears a remarkable resemblance to a hero from Ol' Cloaky forty years ago.  He lead the party to a woman on a mountain who taught them how to use advanced fire based destruction magic.  I'm not certain of it, but I wanted you to be aware of the possibility, as a precaution."
Jenson didn't tend to act on whims.  Not that he never did, but it was uncommon.  So at times like this, when he did, she had learned to take him seriously.
"Thank you Jenson.  I'll be sure to take extra caution when dealing with her then."
He saluted and closed the door on the shuttle.  The rest of the crew would be aboard shortly, and he would join them.  Normally only one of them would be off the ship at a time, but she'd had special clearance from command to leave the ship before he returned.  It didn't make her any more comfortable about having the guest already on board.  If she'd bewitched Harn, and Jenson's suspicions gave her cause to believe she could indeed use magic, then there was plenty chance she could do the same to the crew.  Good as she was in a scrap, Natalya knew she wouldn't be able to fight off half her crew.  She'd picked them because they were some of the best, and that would be quite the disadvantage if they turned on her.  She could only hope her men were loyal enough to her to resist any magic the envoy used.

It was a short, slightly anxious, flight, and Natalya didn't even bother looking out the window.  She'd brought her copy of 'Adventures of the Lost Princess' to tide her over on the flight.  Kate and Zero's adventures in deep space had always ensorcelled her.  She'd have liked nothing better than to travel through the stars with their sort of adventurers; seeing things no one had ever seen before and brushing shoulders with the upper crust of intergalactic society.  Thalia Immersfeld, the Dark Lady and Empress of Gravaga; Tala, the Storm Mage and head of the legendary immortal pantheon; and a score of other even more mysterious figures ranging from the nameless assassin who always lurked in the shadows of the Immersfeld family to Petra, a demon-hunting warrior who fought her way across the cosmos.  But such was more than she could ever hope for.  She was a soldier, an officer, and adventure was for immortals, tragic orphans, and the children of nobility.  Natalya was not a hero, and the great didn't have time for public servants.
The shuttle landed with a light thump as the anti-gravity field deactivated inches above the deck, dropping the small vessel to the floor of the hangar.  Natalya disembarked and, after necessary protocol was observed, proceeded down to the Briefing Room.  There were no signs of bewitchment, and the crew seemed to go about their business in much the way she had become accustomed to.  It was unexpected, but entirely welcome.  As such, she was able to manage a smile as the door opened and she was presented with the envoy.
"Commander Natalya Oerin, Commanding Officer of the D.E.S. Djinn, 42nd fleet, assigned to patrol the edge of the blizzard and prevent infiltration by hostile forces." The woman spun around and snapped.  Instantly she seemed to shrink, lose muscle mass, and her outfit changed dramatically.  It went from simple compound armor, the reinforced leather preferred by Nieldic mages for ages,  to an ornate, and somewhat intimidating, gown of infinite intricacy.  "I'm sorry to have decieved your crew like that, but knowledge of my presence cannot leave this room.  You are the only one with whom this mission can be entrusted."
Natalya almost fainted as she recognized the tiara on the envoy's head, and when it dawned on her that the great villain of her childhood was in her briefing room her mind blanked out.  Thalia Immersfeld von Gravaga, The Dark Lady, Empress of Gravaga, and High Necromancer of the pantheon was on her ship.

Star Haven; Briefing

The forward command post wan't much to speak of, a holoprojector in a hotel ballroom with a lot of desks around it.  It looked impressive, but that was mostly just because it was a very tall room.  After serving at a dozen posts across the universe, Natalya wasn't really impressed by what she felt was an unnecessarily luxurious accommodation.  It spoke poorly to the character of her superiors that they had insisted on staying here.  There were plenty of more suitable quarters, and a warship in orbit would have had vastly superior communications equipment, better combat mapping, and the ability to pick up and go when the battle became a lost cause.  She intended to fight to the death some day, but not because her superiors had failed to provide an exit and needed her to buy them time.

"Commander Oerin, good to see you again."
There was a word that the Nielda saved for those they held in deepest contempt.  It was used to describe individuals who could assign a title to every single one of their ancestors, tell accounts of their ancestor's magical prowess, and never deliver so much as a puff of smoke of their own power or display any nobility of their own.  The word wasn't even positive in most human communities, it spoke of someone who was unwashed and unclean.  The word was greasy, and it fit the general like a glove.  To the Nielda, it meant inbreeding, uncommon among the truly great families but a deciding factor in the fate of those who had let greatness pass them by.  Many of these ignobles had shunned the company of those they deemed low born and unwittingly removed the very influx of power and innovation that kept the greatest families great.  No Gascan monarch had married within the nobility, either local or from any where else in the Empire, in nearly five thousand years, and their line had neither faltered nor been lost in the political crowd; a fact its citizens, like Natalya, were always proud to share.  The Tarans were much the same, and of old the Anatolians were as well.  The children of the Emperor were forbidden from marrying anyone who could be found within their relations on a tree set four generations back.  It was for everyone's good really, no one wanted to have to look at a tubby, pimply little git when they swore allegiance or watched an Imperial address.  It just didn't inspire confidence.  Besides, the Emperor was expected to be able to fight, and she couldn't see a man like General Harn waddling into battle.  It'd be like giving a duck a sword; and a fat duck at that.
"What are your orders, sir."
Harn began to pace in front of the holoprojector as it activated and a series of numbers and letters began streaming upward.  It was a familiar pattern; filing system information, coordinates, timestamps; most of it bueracratic crap but she commited it all to memory anyways in case she had to quote it back to someone later.  The relevant information was always in pictures.  Unlabeled picutes at that, to make sure anyone not present at the briefing couldn't just read it and know what was going on.  Of course, the pictures prevented audio bugs or limited telepathy from working it all out either.  All just security countermeasures easily circumvented by any major power, and almost certainly the enemy.  Gravagans would have just posted a cloaked spy in the room, Ga-Vok would have bugged the room and then hack the main frame afterwords.  The Seclorans would probably kidnap one of them and Psych it out of them, and the Harakai..well they wouldn't dare violate the treaty, especially not with winter nearing their borders.  They'd already begun wartime birth control restrictions.  In a matter of only a few years they'd have a horde of their own to send into battle.  The Empire was starting its own equivalent recruiting programs, and crackdowns on deadbeat senior officers like Harn were, at most, only a few years off.
"As you know, the evacuation of civilians is almost complete.  Myself and many of the senior military officials will be joining them shortly.  However, we received an envoy this morning requesting military support for a special mission."
Oh damn.  He was going to send them on a suicide mission, wasn't he?  This was not how she intended to die.
"Apparently a beacon was detected deep within enemy territory.  It was identified as belonging to one 'Hariel', another envoy.  You and your ship are to venture into enemy territory and determine the nature of this beacon.  If it is an enemy trap, destroy it or pass information back to command to ignore it.  If it is a friend, provide any assistance possible.  The Envoy will meet you at your ship.  Any questions should be directed to the Envoy.  Dismissed captain."

Natalya had no interest in looking into anyone's 'Envoy'.  And why hadn't he identified their allegiance, or even their species?  It was suspect to her, and frankly she felt like there were better uses of military resources than investigating ghost beacons and this 'Hariel'.  The thought glimmered that perhaps Harn genuinely didn't know,  and she had to admit, it did seem horrifically likely.  Still, didn't this seem suspicious to him too?  And if he did, then why didn't he voice his concerns, or at least warn her with his own suspicions?  Had he been ordered not to say anything, or worse, bewitched into silence?
She clenched her fist reflexively.  Her Mother had been a healer, her Father a soldier, and she'd inherited the most dangerous possible combination of their abilities.  She doubted she'd be any match for a professional mage, but it wouldn't stop her from trying.  No one bewitched her superiors; greasy, worthless pimples that they were, every being had the right to decide its own way through life.  Even if that right did often manifest itself as a curse.  In any case, she would not be asking her questions politely.