Capt. Brian W. Manchester, No. 002

27 August 2030

22:57 QCT

There is a flash of mauve sequin across my vision before a graceless form collapses into the several feet of space in front of me. I plunge my arm as I see her body begin to tilt, and I intercept her downward spiral. Her face is inches from mine, with nobody to fault but myself. The woman swings one of her limp hands up to my neck and caresses me into a firm kiss.

I scour the area with her lips on mine, and two bold-faced women come clicking in their heels. "Anja!" I can faintly hear their voices call out over the jazz band with sharp saxophones on the other end of the ballroom. One yanks her hand off of my neck, detracting her face away from me. The other holds her by her shoulders as she rises on wobbly legs.

The support woman glares at Anja. "That is the Queen's City Captain. You better watch yourself before you go stumbling over men around here." Once the other socialite acquires Anja and leads her back into the heat of the bash, the first turns to me in scorn. "My sincerest apologies, Captain. It's her first Imperial Guard Gala."

"No worries, ma'am," I say, feeling a light shove to my back. "Now, if you'll excuse us." The air between us becomes dense and I press through the array of tailored suits and skin-tight dresses. I elevate my arms over the crowd to slim to my destination on the east end of the ballroom.

The South Ballroom of the Castle is the scene for all things happening at the Imperial Guard Gala every year. Sparkles of gold and silver illuminate the enormous room, from the giant chandelier over our heads to the emerald tiles beneath our feet. Three of the four walls is entirely glass, looking out to the vast ocean or Queen's City, depending on which end you're on. The fourth wall, the one I am hugging to reach the dining room, holds a slick, mahogany bar counter with every beverage from all corners of the Empire.

The noise that screams off the glass walls is something to marvel at. Only the finest jazz band from Ciella plays on the circular stage before the some of the most important people in Oltima. Or, at least, they believe they are, depending on their definition of "important." They speak of the highest matters, such as who's sleeping with who or who filed for bankruptcy. Superficial things, but of course, it's all of a matter of perspective.

Pressing through the red doors to the dining room relieves me of the harsh pandemonium in the air of the ballroom. A protracted dinner table stretches to the other end of the room, occupying fifty available cushioned seats along its perimeter. A bronze eagle makes its appearance as the centerpiece with a white lace cloth underneath. The tall windows staring out at the unknown open water are concealed by blood-red curtains swaying in the slight breeze coming in. A chandelier, once bright over the most brilliant minds in the Empire, has since been dimmed to a seductive, golden glow.

James comes to my side, adjusting the black tie hiked up against his white collar. His sharp uniform hugs his waist by a belt to blend into the background. Three yellow buttons seal his jacket against his chest. On the right fold of his jacket collar is an eagle with its wings tucked to its body, while on his left breast, the eagle has its silver wings spread wide.

On the north end of the dining room, the doors open to reveal a young man and woman dressed for their culture of people. The boy, whose forehead is distracted by two isolated, topaz strands of hair, is clad in a white dress shirt with ruffles over the abdomen and a bowtie in the center of his chest. The girl, blessed with a natural beauty of her own, is dressed in a lavender gown that falls halfway to her knees. They both draw near us with childish grins.

By us, I mean James.

The boy suspends his hand in the air in front of the Colonel, and he tugs him into an embrace. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you again, James. It's been a few years."

"I know, Cam, it's been a while. Kind of hard to talk when you are blacked out, drunk." James turns to the girl, grinning back. He reaches down to feel the soft bones of her hand, and he plants a kiss over her knuckles. "Lady Cecilia, the pleasure is all mine."

James has known the Hyka twins, Cameron and Cecilia, since they were mere infants. Tragedy struck the royal family when the Emperor's wife passed away during the birth of the second of the two children, so MacTavish's role in raising them became far more critical than originally intended. They saw him as their second father, perhaps closer to him than their own. On the other end, he viewed them as his own children before Danny was born.

Next year, Emperor Hyka is expected to announce which of his two children will be the heir to the throne. If you ask me, we'll be under an Empress one day. Cecilia embodies the pure and angelic values her mother displayed, despite never meeting the woman. All of the socialites out on the ballroom floor would agree with me.

Cameron, on the other hand, hasn't developed his maturity quite as fast as his sister. We've all heard the stories of his sexual escapades with various elitists, sometimes all at once, as well as his open defiance toward his father. In his adolescence, his mutiny got the best of him during his swordsmanship sessions with his guardian. On one occasion, according to James, Cameron admitted to believing he was inferior to his sister, which isn't true in the slightest. They are just different.

Cecilia raises her gentle hand to the arm of her former guardian. "James, could you spare a dance?"

"Of course." He tucks his arm under her's and leads her back into the lively ballroom. She just took my date. I guess I should go find where Keira is camped out for the night.

I start for the opposite wide set of doors, but a rough hand meets me first. Not quite as light as Cecilia's. "Captain Manchester, may I have a word?"

"What's the issue, my Lord?"

He slings his arm around my shoulders and follows me out to the vacant end of the dining room. "Now, you know me. I have a status to maintain around here, so I need to be in the thick of the action, you know? I can't waste a minute hounding a woman down and claiming her for the night."

I collect my hands behind my back and glare at the young man. "You shouldn't be doing that anyway."

"I know, but I need to ask you a favor." Cameron draws me closer to his slim, robust frame. "There is a woman I am looking for, specifically. If you can find her, and save her for me, that would really make my night."

"So you want me to hold an innocent woman hostage because you want to sleep with her? No thanks, kid. You won't get it from me."

He groans. "Come on, innocent woman? You should see all the risque letters she has written to me. We met at a banquet last year and has been telling me how much she misses me ever since. She promised she'll find the time for me tonight. It's not like I'm trying to kidnap her!"

I come to a halt, followed by a sigh. "Fine. Who am I looking for?"

Cameron curls around my body with his teeth baring from ear to ear. "Her name is Nicolette Binet. Pale, blonde, beautiful. She wrote in one of her letters that she'll be wearing a red satin dress tonight. Beyond that, I only know that she's a sight to see." A couple passes by us, so he leans into me. "When you find her, wherever you find her, please lead her up to my room. Top floor, north corner, second door on your right. Wait there and make sure she doesn't run away. If I'm not up there by two, she may leave. Sound good?"

The couple dissolves into the ballroom, leaving us alone in the dining hall again. I take a step away from Cameron. "What's up with you royals and your blondes? I could name a dozen other women that I've seen tonight alone who are probably far more stunning than this woman you want me to "hound." I'm still not up to your proposal. I may be putting a woman's life at risk."

"Why don't you trust me, Captain? I'm a man of my word. I promise that our interest in each other is both true and mutual. When you find her, you can even ask her about her letters. I swear on it."

I cross my arms. "Okay, I'll find your woman." I take a step into him. "But if I hear that you hurt her, I'll kick your ass, got it?"

He gives my shoulder a pat before edging toward the ballroom. "Just give James a call, he'll let my father know. But I assure you, Captain, it won't come to that." Lord Cameron leaves me, staring at the fireplace roaring on the north end of the dining room.

There are hundreds of aristocrats at this gala, even more than usual. Half of the women here are blonde, from the Meadowlands or Ciella, and red is a popular color for dresses. How am I supposed to go about finding this Nicolette Binet character? If she is as striking as Cameron claims she is, I should be able to spot her with ease. For all I know, she could already have another man under her arm right now.

I should search for Lieutenant Hill first. Her brother, Kibre, is married to one of the Dubois daughters and is in the loop with all things upper-class. What I do know is that the Dubois family, the world-class tailors, are rivals with the Binet family, the steel and gun tycoons from Ciella. Asking Keira for Nicolette may result in an eye roll, but it doesn't matter much to me. I'm not the one trying to sleep with her.

Through the north set of doors from the dining room is a narrow hallway clogged with bodies and cigarette smoke. Whimsical women spin around their men with a cocktail laced around their fingers, nearly colliding with me as I squeeze through the space they provide. Doors along the right wall are propped open, and a quick glance inside any of them would punish me with a sight of human indecency. I've grown used to it through the years.

The last room before the opening into the Grand Hall is shielded by a young Imperial Guard. Two chevrons line his arm below his shoulder. The door behind him is sealed shut, not even ajar. I wonder what he's guarding beyond these walls. Either way, I find it hard to believe that he would take orders from a noble. When I was his age, I would use my authority as a guard to avoid unnecessary commands from the rich. A stack of cash must've been waved in his face.

"What's going on in there, Corporal?" I find the opportunity to pause and turn to the young man. His blank stare drifts my way, but his stiff stance remains.

He raises his eyebrows and gives a slight shrug. "I'm not at liberty to say, Captain. The occupants have asked for privacy. As soon as dinner was over, their whole clan stormed into the hall and took over the Silver Room. I happened to be on the way to the dining room when they asked me to stand in front of the door and not let in any outsiders." He tilts himself into me. "Look, they said they'd pay me six figures for the night. How could I turn that down?"

"Imperial Guard integrity comes to mind. You're better than that. These people don't care about you like you think. How do you know they'll even pay in the end? Use your head, kid."

He draws his legs closer to each other and tightens his face. "My mind is made up, sir. Nobody enters the Silver Room without explicit permission from one already inside." This kid is wasting his time, and so am I. I turn away from the Corporal and continue down the stream to the spacious room ahead.

The Grand Hall isn't as dense and wild as it usually is at this time. There are a few people milling around by the luxurious, leather chairs near the fireplace on the other end of the room. The sleek, black piano rattles out keys by the large windows looking out to the ocean. A velvet, wine-colored carpet spans the hall below yet another shimmering chandelier. But above that, on the high ceiling, silver seals stare down at us, each depicting a different animal.

The seal on the far right, the highest north, is a bear with gnashing teeth and fierce eyes. To its left, a brilliant mustang is in mid-dash, charging toward the ocean. In the center is the same magnificent bird that is pinned over my heart on my jacket and imprinted on the back of my dog tags. Closer to me is a full-maned lion, roaring to signal his pride. Finally, the fifth seal, the furthest south, is the scaly head of a cobra with its taunting tongue. The five Imperial Guard insignias over my head remain as breathtaking as the day I first saw them.

In my trance of wonderment, my body bumps into a figure. I pull my eyes down from the ceiling and smile at the sight of a woman I know. Her cream-colored dress tumbles to her ankles with a cut revealing her knees. Her elegant black hair falls to her shoulders, hiding golden earrings. She wears a captivating grin when I recognize her presence.

"So you come to the Imperial Guard Gala every year and you still stare at the ceiling? Okay, then, rookie." Keira traces her fingers along mine and starts toward the window. I follow close behind as the pianist continues to play a soft piece in our direction of travel.

We pause by the glass panel where a few linen sofas sit idle. She turns to me and lowers onto one of the cushions. I take a seat on the cushion beside her. There is nothing to be seen outside the window except for our reflections looking back at us.

I lean back and look up at the gleaming seals. "Lord Cameron asked me to track a woman down for him."

"That doesn't sound suspicious," Keira laughs. After I don't add on, she stops. "You aren't really doing it, are you?"

"Look, he said that they've had interest in each other for a while now. I'm going to trust him on this, but I'll ask the woman to be sure." I stretch out my back before bringing my body forward again. "I'm going to need your help finding her, though. I don't know the elites as well as you do."

"Who are you looking for?"

I watch her eyes, anticipating the exasperated reaction. "Nicolette Binet."

She presses her lips and gazes out to the dark ocean. "Of course it is. She's the most stuck-up one from that whole family. Just because her father owns the biggest steel manufacturer in the Empire doesn't make her entitled to every rich man on the face of the earth. You'd be lucky to even get close to her."

Great, and I have to deal with this woman until two in the morning. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"I do, but," Keira sighs, shaking her head. "I think you shouldn't go through with this. You so much as look at her, that whole family will talk about you for the whole year. And since they make our guns, the last thing we need is a delayed supply because they are expecting an apology from you."

"Keira, please. I think I can deal with a family of brats. We do it all the time."

"Fine." She points to the hallway with the stench of tobacco meandering into the Grand Hall. "Their entire family is locked away in the Silver Room over there."

I slump into the cushion. Of course. "There's no way in; I already tried. Some kid, a Corporal,  is standing out front and he's not letting anyone in unless they're part of the family."

Keira huffs, rising from her seat and patting down her dress. She reaches her hand out to me. "Come on, let's go."

Her fingers curl around mine and she pulls me upright. I look down on her, but something about her grip makes her height even with mine. "Where are we going? You have a way of getting in?"

She smiles. "I'm getting you in there." She wraps her hand around my forearm in a chain link. "As my date."