Chapter 21: The High Price of a Conscience

The elevator doors slid open, each half of the silver rectangular panel spreading to the side to reveal a small man wearing a grey trench coat and large silver glasses. He briskly departed the small chamber, the handle of a black square briefcase in his right hand, moving down the long, thin hallway with blue doors every couple dozen paces on either side of him.

He stopped before one with the numbers '805' pasted in blocky black text on the center of it. Glancing to either side, peering down both ends of the hallway to confirm he was alone, he reached forward and rapped his knuckles on the wood.

Three times, then he paused for two beats, then four times, then a pause for four beats, then once more. He waited, nervously shifting his weight back and forth.

Finally, the knob twisted and the door opened, a mid-sized woman with red hair beckoning him into the low-end apartment room.

"Morning," he muttered, stepping into the small main hub of the apartment, black boots sinking slightly into the garish blue carpet. Two other individuals, both men, one tall with no hair and another short with curled black hair. The only notable thing about the small and cheap apartment room was a large silver contraption sitting on the desk in the corner, box-shaped with a viewing port on the side.

"We ready to cut?" The tall one asked, as the new arrival went over to the bed to set the briefcase down atop the sheets.

"Yup." He began to fiddle with a row of rotating dials on the front of the case, by the latch, running his thumbs along the fronts of them. "Hey, Salvius, I've got an extra ticket for the match tonight, you want it?"

"I already got mine," Salvius answered, watching as the briefcase was unlocked. "Right in the middle, too. Thanks, though."

"Oh, sweet deal." With a click, he lifted the suitcase lid up, exposing the contents, a paper-wrapped package. "It's three-for-two night on polish beef links."

"Believe me, I know," Salvius said, grabbing the paper package and unwrapping it quickly. Soon, twelve perfectly-cut cubes of crystal clear imperium were exposed, Salvius laying the package down on the bed and grabbing one of them. "I'm gonna have like ten of them."

"Hey, Cato!"

Cato looked over his shoulder, having been hailed by the female member of their quartet.

"You've got an extra, you said?" she asked.

"Yeah, you want it?" Cato asked. "Just remember me next time you make a batch of those pastries, maybe?"

"Sounds good to me," she replied. "I'll take it."

Salvius, meanwhile, had taken the cube over to the large device on the desk, peeling open a panel on the left side and inserting the cube within. "Okay, time to get cutting."

With a few presses of buttons on the front panel of the contraption, the cube had been grabbed by a couple of metallic arms, and a tiny little green laser had activated inside, on the end of a microscope. Salvius began to fiddle with the controls, manipulating the arms and the laser in order to reduce the uncia into little fractions of carats.

"Is Adrian playing?" The fourth member of the small gathering asked.

That particular factoid was never voiced in the apartment room, for the blue door was violently kicked open at that moment, wood splinters scattering as the rectangular slab was blown straight off its hinges. Almost simultaneously, a heavily-armored man holding a large rifle landed on the fire escape and smashed through the glass window, sending shards of glass about as he stormed in. The four were taken by such surprise, that before they could even muster a reaction more than staring in shock at the intruders, half-a-dozen armed-and-armored individuals were inside at point-blank range.

"DOWN!" one of them yelled from behind a black helmet, sweeping the end of his weapon across the room. The four had no choice but to obey, falling to their knees and putting their hands up in the air immediately. "HANDS ON THE BACKS OF YOUR HEADS!"

With their immediate co-operation, the scene quickly got less chaotic. The four didn't even have time to consider the serious implications of what was happening and the possible consequences, it all happened so fast and without their input or influence.

"Room is clear!" one of the intruders announced.

"What do we got?" another asked.

"Looks like a Class B just on the bed," one of them answered. "Boys, I think we've got a big one on the hook."

"

Kunzite stared into the mirror, hands gripping either side of the marble sink, knuckles white. He was scowling deeply at his reflection, somehow unhappy with what he was looking at.

With a frustrated wince, he reached up and scratched the top of his head, trying to decipher the conflict happening in his mind that was bleeding out into his physical appearance. He had to at the very least hide it. Keep it inside. It was not becoming of someone in his line of work to be affected by anything. And yet, no matter how many days got between him and the incident at The Bloody Spears compound, he found himself mentally lingering on it.

Three dozen people getting swallowed up by a massive ball of fire, right in front of him. Yes, they were all criminals by any reasonable definition, but somehow, the visceral method by which they had gone was unsettling to him. He had seen people die many times before. Had been the author of their deaths before. But he just couldn't quite get the images out of his head, nor their choked screams that were barely audible as the plume smashed down on top of them.

It wasn't even his doing that they had gone, nor gone like that. But despite all of that, he found himself affected. And the last thing Kunzite needed in his life was to be affected.

"Kunzite?! You here?"

The general was brought back to reality harshly, forced to live in the here and now. He quickly forced a neutral expression on his face, then turned around to exit the lavatory, sliding the white door open back into his bedroom. Nephrite was standing in the middle of the room, the wrinkles etched into his forehead telling part of a story.

"We have a situation," the brown-haired general began. "There's been an arrest. Four of them, actually. And we won't just be able to just wait these ones out."

Kunzite closed his eyes. "Oh, shit," he said under his breath. "How bad?"

"Four of my sergeants got raided with a full libra over in Hoboken. They're being held in Alexander Penitentiary over there. They're being charged with possession, and given that they had a microscopic laser with them they'll at least try to say intent to sell."

Kunzite reached up to rub at his face. "Eight years at least, then. Probably more."

Nephrite nodded. "I don't know how they found where they were cutting the product. We kept moving, kept everything quiet, I can't figure that part of it out."

"Unless they're stupid enough to let them out on bail, which I wouldn't count on at all given how starved the agency is for a real arrest, this could be difficult," Kunzite muttered. With a sigh, he looked over at the primary door to his chambers, over to his right. "Well, I suppose the sooner we break the news, the sooner we can work on a solution."

"

"I knew it!" Kasios yelped, jumping to his feet and clapping his hands together violently, eyes glued to the holographic message being projected up into the air right above the desk surface. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

Naxos gave a casual little nod. "Yes, yes, you knew it."

"Patience, man!" Kasios said. "Patience is the best thing you can have sometimes! Believe me, there are times in my life where I don't want to be patient, but I force myself to be, and time and time again, I'm happy I did!"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Naxos said, putting his palms out toward the High King. "Slow up there. Yeah, we've made a few serious arrests now, I'm excited too. But we're not even close to being done."

"Buddy, come on, we've worked hard for this, let's enjoy it!" Kasios enthused. "Look, these four assholes we caught, they weren't just chucklehead street dealers. They were cutting the product. Middlemen! That means they're at least somewhat important in this organization, which means they have contact with the higher-ups! Maybe even Tuxedo Mask himself!"

"Maybe." Naxos shrugged. "Or maybe they do everything using dead drops. Just don't get too excited yet, let's save the celebration for after we've got Tuxedo Mask in a cell and his product in our vaults."

"I got a good feeling, alright?" Kasios said. "I got a really good feeling, can't help it!" He clapped his hands together again.

"I thought you might," Naxos said with a grin. "I figured I should be here when you got the news. Least I can do is let you tell me that you told me so."

"Nah, I'll hold onto that one," Kasios said. "So, two cycles down on Earth, and if they haven't rolled over by then, we get them up here."

"That's another thing," Nasos pointed out. "We'd actually need them to give up what they know, on top of knowing something worth giving up."

Kasios's face wrinkled. "We've got them on a Class B. After we're done with the charges, it'll be twelve years, maybe fifteen. One of them is rolling over." He looked around the office. "Screw it, I don't want to stay here! I'm too excited, let's head over to Alexander and see if they'll let us watch them grill these pricks!"

Naxos nodded. "My calendar's clear. But just so you understand, once we're back on Earth, I'm calling you Your Highness again."

Kasios rolled his eyes. "Alright. But you're letting me buy drinks after." He quickly strided around his desk, tugging at the lapels of his jacket.

"

Endymion had his back resting up against the bottom left post of Nephrite's bed, arms folded over his chest, leaning over slightly to look down at the carpet beneath his feet. Kunzite, Nephrite, and Zoisite were milling about as well, the room heavy with silence and concern.

"These four individuals," Endymion asked. "Do we have to worry about them in the short-term?"

"Salvius, Cato, Belen, and Selene," Nephrite recited. "They're not rolling over, if that's what you mean. They're solid, they're loyal, they knew the risks, and they won't say a word."

"But, they know that they're working for you," Kunzite pointed out. "They know that their orders came down from you, which thus could lead back to the Prince."

"Of course they know they were working for me," Nephrite admitted. "But they're not going to flip, so it's irrelevant."

"Maybe they won't flip now," Zoisite said warily. "Not while they're being held in Alexander, not before the sentencing. But when they're being transferred to The Savery and are looking at over a decade up there? How can we be sure?"

"They're not flipping," Nephrite said sternly. "For multiple reasons."

Endymion sighed heavily. "I'd like to believe that, and part of me does. But I think it behooves us to prevent these four from ever getting on board The Savery in the first place, for multiple reasons. So, options?" Endymion pursed his lips. "Post their bail, arrange for them to leave town and lay low for awhile?"

"No bail," Nephrite countered. "They've been deemed flight risks, and the agency has personally seen to it that there's no bail, given their obvious connection to the pure imperium."

Endymion nodded. "Worth a shot. How about a jailbreak?"

"Not likely," Zoisite shot down. "Dubious chance of success, Alexander has a good track record of keeping inmates inside."

Endymion swallowed down a lump in his throat. "Suppose we bribed some people? Got them to botch the case?"

"That's not going to happen with the agency involved," Zoisite said. "Maybe if it was just local authorities, but not like this."

"Then what else can we do?" Endymion asked, sounding mildly exasperated. "What are our options here?"

Kunzite ran his hand over his mouth. "Okay. The way I see it, options include doing nothing, and hoping that they don't flip during their presumably twelve year stay on The Savery."

"I advocate strongly against that one," Zoisite chimed in.

"Noted," Kunzite said. "The other option that I see would involve paying a prison gang with a presence in Alexander Penitentiary to…" he pressed his lips together tightly. "Have these four killed in prison, before transfer."

The silence in the room was deafening, with the impact of Kunzite's words sucking all of the energy out of the chamber.

"I think we could probably get it done for a hundred thousand creds, at most. Probably close to sixty," Kunzite continued. "Issue being, we'd have to have all four of them done rather quickly."

Endymion blinked a few times, then looked over at Nephrite. "How would you feel about that, Nephrite?"

"It's your decision," Nephrite answered flatly. "My network is yours to use as you wish, Your Highness."

"Perhaps so, but I'm asking you. These four, they're good, reliable informants for you? They've been good earners?" Endymion tapped his foot gently against the carpet.

Nephrite nodded. "I would not have given them such high positions in our distribution chain if I did not trust them and believe them to be especially competent."

"If it was up to you, you wouldn't want to see these four dead, or wasting away in prison?" Endymion asked.

Nephrite thought about his answer for a moment, gaze sweeping across the room, slowly. "I suppose not."

Endymion looked back over at Kunzite. "What else do you have?"

"Well, options at that point get rather thin, admittedly," Kunzite mused. "I'm sure that the agency doesn't want them. They will take them, of course, if that's all they have since they're certainly involved directly in imperium smuggling, but they're obviously not the big fish that they want. They want the higher-ups, the supplier, the chemist, the raw source. I'm sure they would be willing to give all four of them whatever kind of deal they wanted if they gave up the person that they were reporting to."

"So what?" Nephrite asked. "Get all four of them to flip on the lieutenant they reported to in exchange for the charges being dropped?"

"That leaves us in essentially the same spot," Kunzite said, shaking his head. "I'm sure their intention is to walk their way up the chain until they have the supplier. They trade in four sergeants for a lieutenant, the lieutenant gives them the boss, who gives them the chemist and the raw product."

"It would be significantly easier to perform a prison hit on one individual opposed to four," Nephrite reasoned.

"Nephrite!" Endymion said, an uneasy look on his face. "I...I appreciate your openness and your understanding, but I'm really not interested in having any of your men killed. And it's okay for you to not be either."

"The point is, whatever we do, somebody ends up in jail. Question is, who?" Kunzite bit his lower lip.

"You're saying that we implicate someone else," Zoisite said thoughtfully. "Someone unrelated to our organization."

"Perfect!" Endymion enthused. "So, we just have to find some random scumbag out there to frame? Make sure they deserve to go to prison anyway, and then call it karma?"

Kunzite winced. "I wish it was that simple, but it needs to be believable. They're not going to release four mid-tier imperium distributors unless they're positive that they've got something worth the trade." He put his steepled fingers up underneath his chin. "This is going to take a little bit of time, I think."

"We've got sixty days," Zoisite pointed out.

Kunzite pointed at Zoisite. "Just in case, we need all four of the arrested to be informed that we're working on a solution. It obviously can't be any of us, so find an appropriate law expert to act as a messenger. Just deliver the message that we're working on getting them out, and they should wait." He then moved his finger over to Nephrite. "You're coming with me, we're going to Jupiter."

"What's on Jupiter?" Nephrite asked.

"I have a feeling that we'll be able to find just what we need over there," Kunzite explained. "Things haven't exactly been stable there for the last twelve years, should be the perfect breeding ground for a believable person to frame." He then looked over at his charge. "Your Highness, just wait, we'll have a solution when we return."

Endymion nodded.

"

The dim room was constructed almost entirely of steel, presenting a rather uncomfortable and unpleasant room to be in. On top of that, it was small, a low ceiling almost feeling as if it was smushing down on everything inside. Only a plain table with a chair on either side of it, as well as a single light fixture and security camera up on the ceiling, populated the room during normal hours. Right now, it was playing host to a pair of individuals. Cato, the incarcerated sergeant in Nephrite's distribution ring, was seated on the west chair, resting his arms on the table surface, staring straight forward. Meanwhile, a second man was on the opposite side, wearing a nice shirt and tie combination, holding a closed folder in his right hand, and staring over at the prisoner.

"Cato, buddy, I don't know what you're not getting here!" he shouted. "This is great! This is great news for you! The Galactic Imperium Agency doesn't want you. They don't give a shit about you! That's great for you! Because, honestly, we don't care about you either! The Earth Law Enforcement Bureau, the agency, we'd both be perfectly fine with you back out on the street, living your life, having a job and a family or whatever it is you do! Tomorrow, maybe! Tomorrow, you could be back outside, back to your old life, before you got caught up in all this imperium nonsense, and we'd be perfectly fine with that!" He stood up suddenly, nearly knocking the chair over underneath him.

Cato, for his part, showed no interest in the appealing offer, giving away absolutely nothing with his facial expression and maintaining a stony indifference.

"You think every small time criminal we haul in here gets that kind of offer? I assure you, they don't! Most of the time, the deals I get approved to offer includes things like extra desserts, thicker blankets. Sometimes, maybe a ten percent sentence reduction or a solo cell instead of a shared one. But not you, man. We want your supplier so badly, that you're getting off without a scratch if you give him up! No parole, no probation, just freedom!"

Cato shifted in his chair slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't have anything to say," he said simply.

The interrogator sighed. "Come on, man, we've got you in the room with three accomplices and a full libra of ninety-nine percent pure imperium. All the ninety-nine percent pure imperium in the galaxy right now is being sold through the black market. None of it is moving through the agency. You really going to waste your time trying to deny it?"

Cato gave a faint scowl as he stared over at the man opposite him at the table.

"Look, we've got three other steaks to grill, and I'm guessing you four all know the same things. So what's going to happen here is that, eventually, one of you four is going to flip. Whoever flips gets their freedom, the other three are stuck serving fifteen years on The Savery with nothing to trade. Which one do you want to be?"

Suddenly, a series of soft beeps sounded off from the interrogator's belt. He lifted a communicator disc up in front of him after detaching it from his belt and pulled an earpiece off the side. He shoved it into his ear as he pressed the center of the disc. "Yeah?"

He listened for a moment, then gave an annoyed eye roll.

"Uh-huh," he said, turning the communicator off. "Think about what I said, huh? Somebody's going to talk, just a matter of who."

He made a beeline for a door, grabbing the knob and waiting for a moment before wrenching it open and walking outside. He was almost immediately replaced by a tall, thin blond man, wearing a black suit and pants with a red tie, a briefcase in his right hand. The camera up on the ceiling suddenly spun downward, dropping from pointing the lens right at Cato's face and instead looking straight down.

"My God, this room," the new roommate declared, looking around. "I swear, it gets more uncomfortable every time I have to go in it." He sat down in the recently-vacated chair. "You have any idea how thick the steel is on these walls? It's like they think you can shoot laser beams out of your eyes or your farts have the explosive yield of a torpedo."

Cato held his tongue, simply watching the newcomer open his briefcase and set a black square device on the center of the table, tapping a button on the side and causing it to glow blue.

"Scrambles any recording devices," he explained. "Video, audio. Don't worry, it's just a precaution. They're not supposed to be recording or monitoring this conversation anyway. Of course, they say they're not, but I like to be safe. So, everything you say right now is between you and me. My name's Miltiades, I'm a expert in Earth law, and your employer has hired me to act as an intermediary during this time."

Cato blinked dully, crossing his arms over his chest slowly.

"Umm...oh, right!" Miltiades reached down and placed his briefcase up on the table, popping it open and looking inside. "Uhhh...okay, I have it." He cleared his throat. "Fate whispers to the warrior."

"There's a storm coming," Cato replied stiffly.

Miltiades nodded. "And the warrior whispers back."

"I am the storm," Cato finished.

Miltiades closed his briefcase. "Alright, we good?"

Cato gave a begrudging shrug and nod. "Writing it down defeats the point, somewhat."

"Well, my brain is pretty full these days. You know, there are an awful lot of laws, I just don't have very much room." He leaned forward. "Now, this is a little unusual, but I'm getting paid all the same so I don't mind. I'm actually not here to represent you or defend you. Your employer has just instructed me to pass along a message, which I will also be passing on to your three accomplices. Basically, just sit tight and don't say anything. Your employers are in the process of working on a solution to get all four of you out of here and clear of these charges, and it will be done before you're handed off to the agency. Just wait for further instructions." He nodded a few times, a gregarious smile on his face. "And that was it."

"I have no intention of saying anything to anyone," Cato said sternly.

"And that's very appreciated," Miltiades replied, nodding. "But your employer wanted you to know that they're working on getting you four off." He stood to his feet. "I can't really say any more than that right now, but that's the message. Ignore their deals, ignore their threats, just wait for further instructions."

Briefcase back in his hand, he marched over to the door, again grabbing the knob and waiting for a beat before twisting it open.

"

"So, she seems to be more perky now," Kasios said, pointing his tiny fork over his shoulder, behind him at the glass balcony doors. Endymion glanced over towards the point, although he of course knew that his father was indicating Serenity, who was laying back on the bed in Endymion's room and resting.

The father and son were out on the balcony, watching the last traces of the sun disappear over the horizon and invite in the night, working on pieces of gourmet chocolate cake.

"We worked it out," Endymion said quietly. "We're fine now."

Kasios nodded. "I mean, Gods, son, you had me worried there! All this work and time spent on you two getting together, the wedding, the union, and then you were acting like you wanted out that quickly?" He shook his head, stabbing his fork into the slice of cake gently and leaving it there, plate resting on the ledge. "I mean, you of all people, I still kind of can't believe it. Actually running off for seven days for a mad...sex adventure!"

"Well, you were right to not believe it," Endymion said slowly, looking down at the capital city below.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kasios asked.

"Nothing happened, is what it means," Endymion muttered, glancing over his shoulder. "I swear, I got out there, I was meeting women, I had everything right in front of me, there for the taking, and I couldn't do it." He shrugged. "I would just start thinking about her, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I got myself right there, three or four times, and...well, I didn't have it in me."

Kasios pursed his lips. "So...you didn't do anything?" he asked.

"Just couldn't do it, dad," he reiterated. "I don't have whatever the hell it is granddad had, that's for sure. So, me and Kunzite just went camping in the mountains out in the middle of nowhere for awhile. Did some sightseeing over on Jupiter's moons."

"Wow," Kasios uttered. "Well, I'm not exactly surprised, I guess. You always struck me as the loyal type."

"I feel a lot better now. Just getting out of the palace for seven days was good for me, I think." He glanced back over his shoulder. "And now, I'm about to have a daughter, so I think I'll be plenty occupied with that. I can't imagine a resurgence happening."

"Hm," Kasios grunted. "Loyalty. Live by it, die by it."

"What's that refer to?" Endymion put a small sliver of the cake into his mouth with the dessert fork.

"Oh, just...you keep a secret?" he asked.

The Crown Prince nodded. "Of course."

"We had a big breakthrough a few days ago," Kasios explained. "With the agency, the Tuxedo Mask crap." He wrinkled his nose. "God, I wish we had something else to call him. Sounds so stupid."

Endymion suppressed a face twitch.

"We've got four people dead to rights on Class B charges. Dead to rights! Spending the prime of their lives in a prison cell, and we're offering them the sweetest of deals to get out of it. I went over to Alexander the other day to watch the interrogations, and...just blows my mind, you know? We're offering them immediate freedom with no strings attached, all they have to do is tell us who their supplier is, and we can't get them to say a word." He sighed. "Somebody's running a tight ship."

Endymion gave a tiny little nod. "Well. Maybe they're scared. They talk, get out of prison, and then they get...uh, I think the term is wacked, by the people they betrayed?"

"Ahh," Kasios said dismissively. "See, son, y-you don't understand criminals. Trust me, I've been around them constantly for the last decade. The old school criminal outfits on Saturn's Moons? Yeah, those guys won't roll over for anything. But other than that? I haven't met an imperium smuggler who wouldn't give up their mother if it meant a shorter stint on The Savery. This Tuxedo Mask crew, it's new. It's corporate. Small, but professional. They don't have any of those horseshit rituals where they all get tattoos on their pricks or they cut off their fingers to atone for failures."

Endymion took in a little breath. "Do people actually get tattoos on their...uh…" He made a non-descript gesture with his hand, pointing downward.

"It's been known," Kasios replied. "But anyway, yeah, it's just driving me crazy how I can't get this guy. Given the circumstances, there's no reason why he shouldn't be wasting away in a cell right now. Small operation, easily identifiable product, business-like organization." He wiped at his forehead. "Almost enough to make me question myself."

Endymion squinted over at his dad. "Question yourself? How?"

Kasios grimaced. "It's not like it's normal, you know. Being a High King, responsible for two different Kingdoms." He gave a slanted little grin. "Admittedly, they're right next to each other. But all that, and then you scoop on being on the high council of the most powerful entity in the galaxy?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I never really thought about it before. Thought it was just something you did, as a person. If you had the ability to affect positive change, then you would do it, and that's all there was to it."

Endymion put another small piece of cake into his mouth, listening closely.

"I don't know what it is. For the first time ever, I've been finding myself thinking...there's not enough me to go around between the Earth Palace and The Savery. I think it's just, everyone up there thinking I'm doing things wrong. I've got the whole rest of the council, they're all telling me how I should be conducting this investigation. And I'm sure they've got the wrong idea, and that I know what I'm doing the right thing. This kind of stuff doesn't happen very often, you know. Usually, you follow the playbook, and before long you're slapping the cuffs on the supplier and taking ownership of his raw product. But now, I just…" he shook his head.

"Maybe I'm biased, but I tend to agree with you when you say you know what you're doing," Endymion muttered.

"What if I'm wrong?" Kasios thought aloud. "What if my methods are just setting us back, and letting this guy just sink his roots deeper into the black market, burning through his product by the day?" He gave an annoyed little frown. "What if I can't see things objectively, because I'm the King of Earth as well? Just, I've never felt that pressure before. The pressure of having both roles, feeling like I'm up there when I should be down here, or down here when I should be up there." He blinked down hard. "Makes me wonder. Maybe it is too much for me to handle."

"Maybe," Endymion replied softly. "Then again, there's no getting around the fact that all of us only get one chance at this."

"Hm?" Kasios raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Life," Endymion answered the unspoken question. "All of us, we get one chance at life. We can't save anything for the next time around, we have to leave it all out there while we're here. And the extraordinary things that we can do in life, the things we can do to go above-and-beyond, those are the things really worth doing."

Kasios finally took another bite out of his slice of cake, picking the tiny plate off the ledge of the balcony.

"If you don't do those extraordinary things, then what's the point? If you can't rise above expectations, who's going to remember you? And I think that people find an inner peace, when they manage to achieve those high ambitions, knowing that they'll be remembered as something more than they were given credit for." Endymion looked up towards the darkening sky, in the direction of where the Moon was starting to become visible. "For over...five years of my life, I spent far too much time worrying about finding a way to exceed expectations. To be special. Sometimes made it hard to sleep at night."

Kasios's face wrinkled. "Son, you're the Prince of one of the most powerful Kingdoms in the galaxy and—"

"My entire life, I have had everything handed to me. Put right in front of me. Be told that I would have great things given to me, knowing it was only because I was born into it, because I just so happened to come out of the right womb. Things built and made great by others. I'd be handed these things, and asked to not screw it up. And I wondered. What chance did I have, of being able to actually be extraordinary, having been born into all of this, doing nothing to earn it?"

Kasios tilted his head slightly over at his son.

"And I'll tell you, dad. Now that I've been able to build something that nobody expected. Create something that matters to the whole galaxy. Assure my place in history as a memorable, important figure who went above expectations and earned something special. Well. I sleep just fine."

Kasios nodded. "Well, that's...that's great, son. I'm happy for you, then." He glanced up at the Moon. "Bringing the two Kingdoms together as one, that was certainly an accomplishment."

Endymion gave a wan smile, then reached over and slapped his father on the shoulder. "I'm sure those prisoners will give up what they know soon. You'll have your man before you know it."

With that, the Crown Prince turned around and strode back to the glass doors back into his bedroom, Kasios left there to nurse the last of his cake.

"

Kunzite held up a mid-sized photograph of a middle-aged woman's face. A slim, narrow face with black hair up in a ponytail. Endymion was sure he didn't recognize it.

"Cassandra," Kunzite said. "One of the many dozen advisors to Queen Jupiter, and one of the many dozen caretakers who oversaw control of the planet until the current Queen came of age."

"What about her?" Zoisite asked.

"She's exactly what we were looking for," Kunzite explained. "The former King and Queen of Jupiter passed away over twelve years ago, leaving their advisors to assume control of the throne until their daughter came of age. It's not easy, having all those people trying to run things, all the while they try to train a young child on how to one day be an effective Queen. So, unsurprisingly, things have been a bit of a mess. Inefficiency, poor planning, and corruption have been running rampant, and still are. So, we have here Cassandra, forty-year-old woman, ran the treasury on Jupiter. Still does. And, during that twelve year period where things were hectic and scrambled, she was taking a little more than she had agreed to out of that treasury."

"Skimming off the top?" Endymion said under his breath.

"I imagine it was pretty simple, probably didn't take that much at a time. Apparently, she's got a large extended family with a lot of problem. Gambling, medical bills, loans, all kinds of embarrassing problems that you'd rather not people know about when you're working for a royal house." Kunzite set the picture down on the table in front of him. "According to the information brokers we spoke to on Jupiter, she stopped doing it after the current Queen took the throne. Can't say why, maybe she starting feeling guilty or felt it would be harder to get away with. This is our mark. This is how we get the agency looking in the wrong direction. And we found a group on Jupiter that is willing to do it."

"Do what, exactly?" Endymion inquired.

"Arrange for Cassandra to be framed as a high-ranking individual in our organization. She's already guilty of twelve years worth of embezzlement, it'll be a simple matter to say that she stopped doing it because she got involved in something far more lucrative and far less betraying of her Queen's trust. Our first barrel of boron fluid was stolen from Jupiter, so it'll be easy to assume she was involved in that as well. She spends plenty of time off-world visiting her family, who are scattered all around the galaxy, so all of her time is not accounted for. We get our four incarcerated lieutenants to accuse her of being their contact point for the refined imperium, in exchange for immediate release without parole, which they will grant out of desperation to make a real break in this case. They'll investigate, and find the evidence that this group plants. She gets arrested, our men get released, and by the time they realize that she either doesn't know anything or won't give anything up, our men will be laying low, far far away from Hoboken."

All four individuals in Nephrite's room took a moment to digest the entirety of the plan, mulling it over.

"A story the agency will believe," Endymion said quietly.

"The group that is willing to plant the evidence wants two and a half million creds," Kunzite said. "And a libra of imperium."

Endymion's nose wrinkled a bit. "That's almost five million total."

"The imperium is for the frame-up," Kunzite explained.

"So. Option three," Zoisite mused. "I seem to recall us at least considering our original option two as viable?"

"Certainly cheaper," Kunzite pointed out.

Endymion looked down at the carpet beneath his feet, then his gaze shot up over to Nephrite, who was seated on the side of his bed. "It's your call, Nephrite."

"No, it's your call, Your Highness," Nephrite said quickly.

"I'm making it your call," Endymion insisted. "They're your men. It's up to you."

Nephrite exhaled out his nostrils, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look indifferent. "They've been loyal to us. To me. If it's my call. I say we reward that."

Endymion looked over at Kunzite. "Make it happen."

"

Kasios sat down on the left side of the long, metal table, with Naxos seated to his immediate right and assorted prison wardens and local law enforcement supervisors to his left. He looked as if he was settling down before a desirable, long-awaited meal, for as excited as he was.

"Hoo boy, for a little bit there I was actually afraid they weren't going to crack," Kasios said, clapping his hands together. "I forgot how much people hate the concept of living in a small dark cell on board a space station."

"Your Highness," the man to Kasios's left said. "It wasn't necessary for you to be here during this, but I must say, it's an honor to have you. My name's Christian, I'm the law enforcer supervisor for the Hoboken region."

"Oh, I want to be here for this, Christian, trust me," Kasios said quickly. "So, who flipped? Who's getting the shiny red apple?"

"All of them," Christian replied. "They all had the same lawman talking to them. He must have convinced them that talking was their only way out. Here's the thing, though, Your Highness. These four, they're loyal to each other still, even if they're willing to break their loyalty to their point of contact. All of four of them are willing to give up their source, but only if all four of them are given the same deal. Time served, no probation. They've all said that they won't say anything unless all four of them are included." He slid a small stack of papers over towards Kasios, pushing it across the table surface. "It's unusual, for sure. I've drafted up this document with that deal, signed by all four, me, and the head prison warden. We need someone from the agency to sign off on it as well, and it could certainly be you, Your Majesty. If you're willing to accept such a deal, of course. If their information is solid, it will put all four of them back on the street in a matter of days."

Kasios's face wrinkled. "Who gives a shit about them? I'll go over there right now and give them all handjobs if that's what it takes for them to give up their supplier."

Christian was silenced as Kasios picked up a pen from the table surface and flipped through the stack quickly, seemingly taken aback by the High King using such language. Indeed, the entire room was rather eerily silent as Kasios put his signature on the final page of the document stack.

"Of course, the deal is only valid if we're able to actually charge whoever they give us," Christian finally managed to say. "Their testimony, even if it's in unison, won't be enough without evidence."

An older, bald man at the left end of the table pressed his finger into a glowing-white gem on the table in front of him. A light above the lone door in or out of the room turned on, and a moment later, the door opened. A woman with red hair marched in, hands and feet both glowing pink, as her movements were restricted by a simple field. She stiffly stepped over to a metal chair in the middle of the room, before the row of men and women across the table, and sat down.

"Selene," Christian said. "The deal has been signed off on, with multiple witnesses." He delicately reached forward in front of the High King and slid the stack of papers across the table over to the red haired woman. "Have a look, if you'd like."

She quickly peeled up a few pages to look at the signatures on the end.

"Now, that deal is bird nest fodder unless what you tell us is the same as what your three friends tell us," Christian continued. "And also, whoever you implicate, we have to be able to made solid charges against them. So, what do you have for us?"

Selene glanced around the room, taking note of the half-a-dozen cameras pointed at her.

"My point of contact with the supplier of imperium," she answered. "I don't know how high up she is in the organization, but she's claimed in the past to have direct contact with the actual supply and the chemist."

"So not the actual supplier," Kasios reasoned.

"I can't tell you for sure," she said. "But she's the one we've always collected the imperium from. We take it from her, slice it up, get it out to the dealers on the street."

"What can you tell us about her?" Christian asked.

"That she's not as careful as she should be," Selene replied. "I know who she is."

Christian cocked his head. "You've got a name?"

"Name, position, location." She shrugged. "I wanted to know who I was working for before I got too involved, and she made the mistake of leaving behind a few hair strands at a meeting with us. The other three know all this as well."

"Let's hear it," Kasios urged.

"Her name's Cassandra." Selene tried to shift her body in the chair, but her limbs were still held in place by the fields. "Works for the throne on Jupiter."

"

"You have all gone insane!" Queen Jupiter yelled, putting her hands on her hips and projecting a powerful, imposing figure over at the assorted agency soldiers who had forced their way into the large office. Cassandra had her face pinned down to the desk, hands held behind her back, two pink-glowing rings on her wrists that held them together tightly. Despite being faced with an assortment of heavily armed individuals, Queen Jupiter was unwilling to back down. "I cooperated with all of your ridiculous questions and intrusions, but this is too far! I'm not having you arresting one of my lead advisors, she's done nothing wrong, stop this immediately!"

"Your Highness, there's some things you're unaware of right now, after you're informed you'll understand," agent Felix said quickly as Cassandra was allowed to lift her head off the desk.

"Cassandra has submitted herself to your questioning and done everything you asked!" Jupiter insisted. "She has a very important job to do, here, and unless you can give me a very compelling reason I'm not going to stand for this!"

Felix sighed. "Your Majesty, Cassandra hasn't been doing her very important job particularly well. Hasn't for a long time, actually."

"And who are you to make a statement like that?!" Jupiter demanded.

The door behind the Queen slammed open, Lyra rushing in, out of breath.

"...h…how did...how did you...get down here...so fast?" she panted, putting her hands on her knees and bending over.

"Not right now!" the Queen snapped.

"Queen Jupiter, your head of the treasury has been embezzling funds from you," Felix explained. "When we did a deep dive into her financials during our initial investigation, we found some minor discrepancies. It wasn't enough to pertain to our investigation, so we left it alone at the time, but she's been stealing creds from Jupiter for twelve years."

Jupiter's harsh face finally softened, eyes widening and mouth falling open a slight amount. "W...what?"

"Sorry to break it to you like this, but you're free to review our research, she's stolen tens of millions of creds from the planet treasury ever since your parents passed. We're quite sure of this."

"U-uh…" Jupiter wasn't really sure how to respond, instead looking over at Cassandra's face. The middle-aged woman reluctantly turned away from the confused gaze, nothing to say in her defense. "C...Cassandra, I...are you…"

She gave a quick little nod, eyes visibly tearing up.

"W-wait," Lyra suddenly spoke up, having gotten her breath back. "That's not agency business! That's entirely a local matter, that's between her and the Queen! How can the agency arrest her for that?"

"Y-yeah!" the Queen perked up. "And I pardon her!"

Cassandra nearly jumped a slight amount off the ground at that exclamation, before being forcefully held down by the armed soldier behind her.

"W-whatever, I don't care, she was doing a good job, maybe she...maybe she should have gotten a raise!" Jupiter reasoned. "I don't care if she stole some money, that's my concern, and I'm not pressing charges! Or whatever!"

"That's actually not why we're here," agent Felix explained. "Cassandra stopped skimming money out of the treasury in recent cycles. No point when you're printing creds because you've gotten involved in black market imperium smuggling, right?"

"I don't know anything about that!" Cassandra argued, getting her gusto back after having been so quickly let off the hook by her Queen. "I...I was stealing funds from the treasury, I admit that, and I'm sorry! I was embarrassed about my family problems and didn't want to talk about them, but I've never had anything to do with imperium smuggling!"

"We have four members of an imperium distribution ring currently being held in prison down on Earth who would all say otherwise," Felix countered. "They said they believed you had direct contact with the supplier of the ninety-nine percent pure imperium that's shown up recently, and you were a big player in their operation."

"That's impossible!" Queen Jupiter interrupted. "She's busy keeping the treasury running here, she wouldn't have time for something like that!"

"We have a long list of excused absences on her official record to 'visit family members' that would say otherwise," Felix said, starting to sound bored now. "And either way, we've already raided the apartment on Io that was registered in her name and found a libra of imperium hidden under the bathroom sink, so we really don't need much more proof than that."

"I don't have an apartment on Io!" Cassandra said, voice starting to get panicked, looking up over her shoulder at the guard standing right behind her. "Why would I need one? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Well, you can't exactly run an imperium smuggling organization out of a royal palace," Felix said. "Now, I really don't have to explain myself any more than I already have, I am well within my rights to place this woman under arrest." He turned to Queen Jupiter. "I would begin searching for a new treasury head immediately, whatever happens from here on out this woman is not to be trusted."

With that, the collection of agency employees began to form up in a line, pushing Cassandra into the middle of it, and began to quickly march out of the office, around the Queen and her closest advisor. Jupiter just stood there, trying to find the strength and confidence she had when she had first entered the room, but her head was spinning.

"W-wait!" She turned around, watching the line of men and women disappear out into the hallway, ignoring her entirely. "I…"

Lyra came up next to Queen Jupiter, putting her hand on the small of her back. "It's hard to avoid accidentally picking a few bad eggs when you're trying to put together a cabinet to run a planet of this size. I'm so sorry, Your Highness."

Jupiter just stood stock-still, listening to the assorted footsteps outside start to fade.

"I need her!" she said, this time in more of a whine.