New Corbus City was a place full of grime, of sleaze and ill-gotten paragons who would, with one hand, whisper words of kindness and with the other plan to stab you in the back as soon as your attention shifted.
Clarke stood at a crossroads of sorts, her coat pulled tightly around herself as she eyed the rain that slowly poured down from the heavens above.
"It's funny," Costia said and Clarke looked at her friend to find Costia staring up into the skies overhead.
"What is?" Clarke asked, eyes already turning to a group of men on the other side of the floating boulevard, their drunken voices painfully cutting through the sounds of music far too eclectic for her tastes.
"The wealthy live up there," Costia said and she held her hand out into the rain, the small overhang they stood under thankfully shielding them from most of the downpour. "It's like they're pissing down on everyone here," she said with a shrug as she pulled her hand back and shook off the rain water before tucking it back into her own oversized pockets.
Clarke smiled something between mirth and another emotion she didn't bother to consider as her gaze followed a skycar that whizzed by. She thought Costia's description apt. These people, who lived on the lower levels, and those who lived on the levels even deeper, never seemed to consider the wealth disparity, never seemed to care. Or perhaps they didn't really mind. Maybe they didn't for they knew the outer worlds were far less wealthy whose habitants had far more pressing issues to worry about. Or maybe they were simply too high on whatever they called life to think too hard about anything.
"Come on," Costia said as she tilted her head to the side.
Clarke took a moment to look behind them both as they continued down the pathway, her gaze taking in every person she saw, she lingered on someone who might have been following, she took a moment to gauge why they had their hands in their pockets and then she turned forward, the threat no longer considered as she began flicking the information away from her vision with two quick blinks of her eye.
"The drone identified her about one day cycle ago," Costia said quietly. "Sensors matched her gait to what's on record."
"Yeah," and Clarke couldn't help but to look up into the clouds overhead, if only because she wondered if Fleet Intelligence kept tabs on them as much as they had with their suspect. "What do you think she's doing here?" and Clarke shivered as a chill ran through her body.
"Same thing she did on Tellasil," Costia scoffed.
Clarke didn't respond for a moment as a woman passed them by.
"How many nightbloods do you think are here?" Clarke genuinely wondered how many were left in the galaxy. She didn't think there could be more than a few hundred. Fleet Intelligence was hardly able to keep track of the ones they were certain about. Their current quarry notwithstanding.
Costia answered the question with a shrug, the gesture all that really needed to be said. Clarke suspected a certain family might have taken residence on New Corbus, perhaps she'd have her answers sooner rather than later. And yet she didn't quite know what to report back should she actually find what she was looking for. Nightbloods mostly kept to themselves, most hardly ever interfered with anything other than local politics. Of course there was the occasional once a decade overstepping of power and influence whose repercussions more likely than not wouldn't be felt for decades to come.
Perhaps that was what made them so hard to pin down, the things they did, the influence they wielded never really seemed to impact anything for years, decades, perhaps even centuries. The frustrating thing though? Most in Fleet Intelligence assigned to watch over a nightblood would spend an entire career trying to decrypt their actions and would retire never really knowing what they had been working to analyse and understand, let alone stop.
If Clarke never got to see the fruits of her labour at least she believed it was important. They couldn't have a secret society dictating and influencing the lives of countless trillions simply because they could.
"We're here," Costia said then and Clarke looked up to find that they stood before a bar. Windows dirtied by years and neon lights flashing were all that filled her vision as she tried peering inside.
They both shared a quick glance before stepping through the doors to be greeted by the smell of alcohol that hung thick in the air. Music seemed more unfocused inside the bar. A single exit could be seen in the far corner and Clarke found herself eyeing a man and a woman in one of the private booths, hands hidden under the table and within clothes. She couldn't help but to feel the corners of her lips twitch in disgust just a bit as she pulled her gaze away and to the man who stood behind the bar.
The man looked up at their entrance and Clarke thought the toothy smile he sent their way would have been charming had it not been for the sleaze she thought ever heavy in the air.
"Ladies," he said, and Clarke followed suit as Costia slid herself into one of the bar stools, grin already on her face.
"Two Orion Gins," Costia said and she swiped her wrist against the display embedded in the table.
"Two Orion Gins coming right up," and the man turned and disappeared under the bar.
Costia turned to look at her and Clarke couldn't help but feel a smile creep onto the corners of her own lips. It wasn't uncommon for Clarke to think that Costia felt far more at home amongst the people, far more alive and able to get the information from them without having to resort to threats or intimidation. Perhaps that was why they worked well together.
Lighten up, Clarke
That had been what Costia had said last time they had gone under cover. Perhaps she just found it hard to shake the feeling that she was responsible for far more than most people ever wer—
"So," and Clarke looked up to find the bartender standing before them again, two cups being pushed their way. "What brings two ladies like you to a place like this?" and he gestured around him and to the small handful of irregulars Clarke thought the bar's regulars.
"Funny you should ask," Costia answered with a smile as she took one of the glasses. "We've been on a bit of a holiday," and she took a sip before putting the glass back down.
"Ah," and the bartender looked over at Clarke and she was sure he took her measure. "Well, New Corbus City ain't like any other city."
"No," and Costia laughed, her voice carefree and kind. "We've found that out the hard way," and the man's eyebrows lifted a fraction.
"Oh" and he leant against the bar, arms folded and head cocked to the side in curiosity. "And why is that, miss?"
"Well," and Costia turned to her and nudged her shoulder. "Miss talkative over here's just a bit mad because we've lost a friend," and Costia held out her wrist, the watch she wore already spitting up an image of a woman whose eyes were sharp, hair a wild mess of braids and curls and whose expression couldn't quite be placed. "You seen her around?"
The man looked at the image for half a second before shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.
"Can't say I have, miss," and he gestured to a man who nursed a drink at the far end of the bar, whose face was unshaven, hair a mess and his mind so dulled with drink Clarke thought him unlikely to even remember his own name. "We don't get that sort of clientele around here," and sighed as he looked back at them. "We ain't that fancy."
"Really?" Clarke asked, and she watched as his eyes snapped to her.
There were a few ways Clarke and Costia always played the next few moments. Sometimes they'd sweet talk them if the person seemed to be unsure if they remembered someone or not, sometimes they'd give up if the person genuinely didn't remember, but at times like this, when the person was lying to them?
"I think you have seen her," Clarke said and she swiped her wrist across the display and she watched as the bartender's eyes widened as the credits flashed across the panel. "Does that help?"
"I ain't looking for trouble," he said and he took a step back, eyes narrowed a fraction. "If she owes you money or if you're after her head I ain't looking to get in the middle of anything."
"We just want some answers," Costia said quietly, her voice still soft, her smile ever present. "No one's getting hurt," and she shrugged as she took another sip of her drink. "In fact I think you're getting more out of this than anyone else, aren't you?"
The bartender sighed then and he seemed to chew his lip for a moment before making a decision.
"Look," and he shrugged his shoulder. "She came in here looking for a drink — Europa Freeze, not many people want one of them around here, you know?" and he pointed to a nearby bottle half full that sat apart from the others behind the bar. "Said her name was Jane, she stayed for a few hours then got picked up."
"Who picked her up?" Clarke asked.
"I didn't see no one driving the skycar from here," and he pointed to the windows as if to emphasise the fact that it would be hard to look out of them. "Alls I saw was that it was one of those posh black skycars."
Clarke looked him in the eyes for a moment longer before shrugging and taking a longer sip of her drink, the tartness of it enough to clear her mind for a little while longer.
"Look, that's all that happened," the man said, voice a little more quiet now. "I don't want trouble, I ain't looking for it. I've answered your questions but I think it's time for you to leave."
Clarke didn't blame him for asking them to leave, she didn't blame him for keeping his voice down either. She knew that he'd recognise them as something more than just the usual small-time criminal. Transferring that many credits into someone's account without triggering any banking alarms needed sophisticated software.
"Thanks for the drink," Clarke said with a wry smile as she slid off her barstool, Costia quick to flash the man her own cheery smile as they turned to leave.
"You think he told us the truth?" Costia asked once they stepped outside.
Clarke shook her head as she turned up the collar of her jacket to shield from the spray of rain that misted down upon them.
"No," and she shook her head as she looked over her shoulder to find the bartender eyeing them cautiously as the doors slid shut. "At least not all of it."
Lexa sat in the high-backed chair, the empty dark of the room that seemed too bright and too small an oddly comforting reminder of times past. The window that spanned her entire vision showed the sun where it slowly continued to rise in the distance. It bathed the bed of clouds in its glow and Lexa found herself thinking the scene beautiful and breathtaking.
"Thank you, Nia," Lexa said as she looked back at Nia to find the older woman looking at her over the brim of a rectangular glass full of a heady drink.
"You are very welcome, my dear," Nia said, the warmth of her smile contrasting with just how cold and sharp her eyes appeared.
That image was always a stark contrast to the vision of the woman Lexa sat before. She was under no mistake that Nia could be cunning, deceitful, easy to resort to backstabbing and cruel punishment should someone cross her. And yet Lexa had found her honourable in an odd way. Perhaps it was because Nia genuinely cared for those she called family, maybe it was because Lexa knew Nia would do anything to help those she considered close. Whatever the reason Lexa didn't really question it.
"How was the food, my dear?" Nia asked quietly.
"Good," and Lexa didn't need to lie or stretch the truth one bit. "Thank you."
Nia smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in happiness.
"And you, Ontari?" Nia tiled her head to Ontari who had taken a seat along one of the sides of the table, a plate cleared of food and cutlery politely placed atop it the sole sign she had eaten.
"Very nice, Nia," Ontari said.
Nia nodded to herself as she put the small cup down upon the table before she leant back in her chair and looked outwards for a long moment.
Lexa knew Nia must be considering any kind of scenario as to why she had come. She wouldn't be surprised if Nia had in some way already anticipated what her request would be and she also wouldn't be surprised if Nia hadn't even considered it at all. She wouldn't blame her, for what she intended to do was tantamount to blasphemy.
"Why are you here, my dear?"
Lexa's gaze snapped to Nia's to find her staring at her with such an intensity that it would have made her flinch if she had been anyone else. For a moment Lexa considered bending the truth, for a second she considered lying or not even telling Nia anything. But she couldn't. Not after all she had been through over the last two hundred years.
"I want the Lightbournes," Lexa said it as simply as she could. There was no other way.
She heard a gasp slip past Ontari's lips, she watched as Nia leant forward in her chair and she was certain she even sensed Echo somewhere far behind her stiffen.
"And what do you intend to do with them, my dear?" Nia asked, and this time her voice was iron, was cold, was something unkind and unnerving.
"You know," Lexa said. She wouldn't mince words, she wouldn't utter falsehoods.
"What you say—" Nia trailed off for a moment, "— is it blasphemous?" There was a pause. "No, perhaps traitorous?" Nia remained quiet for so long that Lexa wondered what filtered through the woman's mind. She wondered if Nia conjured plans and contingencies, scenarios and strategies and any sort of failsafe actions that would need to be carried out should word of what had been said leak to those that remained. "Foolish," Nia said suddenly. "What you say is foolish, my dear."
"They started it," Lexa said, and though her voice, her tone and her posture was polite, she knew Nia sensed the iron of her will. "They opened the door and all I'm doing is stepping through and closing it behind me. No one else—"
"—You have already involved us," and this time there was a flash of anger, a flash of disappointment in Nia's tone.
"I need your help, Nia," it was the truth. Lexa couldn't do it alone.
Nia sighed and Lexa watched as she leant back in her chair and looked away in thought. Lexa wondered what Nia thought in that moment. Part of her wondered if Nia thought her deranged, lost and broken. Part of her wondered if Nia thought her arrogant and more likely to end up face down in the dirt on some backwards outer world no one had ever heard of before. She didn't really care though.
"Perhaps I should put you on hold for a century," Nia said as her gaze turned back to her, "would that rid you of your foolish notions of revenge, my dear?"
"No," Lexa shook her head. She wasn't even afraid that Nia would do such a thing. But she knew being forced to wait another hundred years would only make her want it more.
"I think it would only make you want it more," Nia said, perhaps to herself, perhaps as if she had just read her mind.
"It would," Lexa shifted in her seat, and she didn't quite know if it was to make herself more comfortable or to give her something to do besides hold Nia's piercing stare.
"Why do you come to us for help?" Nia asked suddenly. "Is it because you think I feel as though I owe you?"
"No," again Lexa shook her head. "But I know you can get me the information I need. Or you already know what I'm after."
Nia sighed as she reached for her cup, she lifted it to her lips and Lexa watched as she paused for a second as she seemed to breathe in the scents before taking a shallow sip.
"You have made quite the noise in your travels, my dear," Nia said eventually. "How many petty criminals have you killed? How many lowly planets have you visited? How much destruction have you left in your wake?"
Lexa didn't need to answer that. She knew Nia would have been keeping tabs on her, she knew most nightbloods with any kind of power would have been keeping on eye on her, just as they did every other nightblood. Except for the Lightbournes.
"They crossed a line," Lexa didn't mean to snap, but she did and she regretted it almost as soon as her voice finished echoing out around them.
"They did, my dear," Nia said, an eyebrow raised, her tone just a little full of reprimand. "But they were banished for it."
"They deserve punishment, Nia," Lexa challenged. "After everything they did. After every rule, every law, every oath they broke they deserve punishment."
"They can never return to the core worlds," Nia said it more sternly now, and Lexa knew she was pushing it, she knew she couldn't raise her voice much more without being sent away for years.
"But they're still alive," her voice sounded smaller to her than she had intended for it to sound.
"My dear," Nia seemed just a little annoyed then. "They rule over an empire of nothing."
Lexa bit her lip to stop herself from snapping. She looked away and tried to think of what to say, she tried to think of what she could do to make Nia at least open to helping her. And yet she didn't blame Nia for not wanting to give away the information she needed. If only because she knew it bad for Nia if word spread amongst the nightblood families that she had in some way facilitated the death of another.
"They're still alive," Lexa said quietly. "out there. Somewhere," and she gestured away from herself as if to represent somewhere. "Please. Nia," Lexa whispered. "Even just tell me what system they're in. I'll do the rest," Lexa leant forward and made sure Nia met her gaze. "No one has to know. No one will know. I swear it."
Nia remained quiet for a long moment after that, Lexa watched as she lifted her glass and took one last sip before setting it down on the table as she leant back in her chair and let the harsh darkness seemingly swallow her in its deathly glow.
"I will tell you where they are, my dear," Nia said eventually. "But first you will kill someone for me."