“An Empress in some unspecified danger sends away one—possibly more, we have no way of telling—of her heirs, and does so to an obscure restaurant owner that she has met perhaps once at most.” Niko rubbed her forehead. “I am at a loss for an explanation.” She looked directly at Atlanta. “Here’s the thing. Everyone I talk to—and I do mean everyone, without exception—says there is no danger, no rebellion. No war. Nothing that would have caused her to send you away.”

Atlanta raised her chin. “Then we will go and ask her why she has done this. I am her heir, she must give me an answer.”

Dabry and Niko exchanged glances.

“If she was sent away, is it wise to take her back again?” Dabry asked.

“A danger that we do not know—that we can’t anticipate and plan against—is a hundred times more dangerous than one we do,” Niko said. “We will go and see what we draw out. We will not let anyone aboard the ship that we do not know, and we will keep a watch on other ships that impinge upon our space.”

Bam! Atlanta rebounded off Skidoo’s form but still managed to fling the ball toward Dabry. She was rather proud of how much better she’d gotten at the game.

The four of them had started playing lately, trying to coax Talon out of his chamber. So far they’d had little success, but Atlanta had become enthused by the game for its own sake. Even intended to introduce it into palace life as soon as she got back, in the name of keeping fit and combat ready. If she happened to clean everyone’s clocks in the course of that introduction, well, so be it.

“Captain Niko, someone is returning your call to the Imperial Presence,” the ship said.

“Ugh,” Niko said. “I’ll be right there.” She rose and took advantage of the pause to bounce a ball through a goal while Dabry did the same on his end.

“That is being not fair!” Skidoo exclaimed.

“All’s fair when victory is on the line,” she declaimed. Everyone rolled their eyes. She made for her room, pausing to run through her fresher and swap into clean clothes before activating the communications console. The Imperial regime was rules bound and protocol based; Niko was frankly surprised that someone had returned her message within only a few hours. All this unnecessary bureaucracy rubbed her raw, all this making another person wait in order to establish one’s superiority. She was lucky this hadn’t taken days, if not weeks.

“You are Nicolette Larsen?” a voice greeted her when she signed on.

“Of course I am,” she said irritably. “You called me, you should know who I am.”

“Please stand by for Her Highness.”