Chapter XIII

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Cenerea, 3rd planet from the star Letria. Regalius, The Homeland, Central Region,

The Capitol City, Chancellor Santum's Office,

Forty-Four Cenerean Years Ago


"Connor, how long has it been?" The pilot embraced his brother-in-law.

"Too long, buddy. Too long," Chancellor Santum said wearing a very large toothy smile. "Come in! Have a seat. You want something to drink? I got some of your favorite."

"Oh, yeah, light me up," Gil replied. "Man, this is almost like old times back at the compound, you know? Except you have this huge office and all now. I never see you over there at the mansion, anymore."

"Yeah, this little place keeps me running. But, you are right; I really have missed us hanging out."

"So, how do you like your big-time job since your election to Chancellor? I know you are keeping my Aunt Clarissa happy. She tells me about all of the wonderful things you have planned for the Confederation and also the Clan." Gil said, accepting a drink from Connor.

"It's going really well, except for those fucking Sub troublemakers." The Chancellor said taking a drink. The ice cube rang against the crystal glass as he emptied the contents into his mouth.

"I don't know why you worry about those people. They can't hurt us," the Lieutenant said.

"That's what you think. The Lavidians are arming them now. If we do not watch it, they'll start blowing up buildings and killing people by the thousands. You've seen the information monitors."

"I suppose you are right. So, why does the most powerful man in the Confederation need to talk to some half-assed Arcturan pilot on loan to the CRMDAC?" The young man laughed and took a sip from his drink.

"Stop with your self-depricating bullshit, Gil." Connor grinned. "We both know your royal ass should be running the 8th."

"You offerin' me the job, bro?"

"Not quite. I am offering you something even better. Marriage to what will soon be the most powerful woman in the Confederation."

Gil nearly choked on his drink. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and coughed. "Dude, I am not marrying that psychotic sister of mine, that's sick."

"No, fool. I mean that really hot Research and Development scientist that is building all of those new weapons systems. That one."

"You better watch saying shit like that. Mother will shut you and Aunt Clarissa out of the Clan."

"I am not worried about your mother. I have bent her over that four post bed enough..."

"Damn, Connor. Got it. Don't need to hear about it." Gil closed his eyes and shook his head.

The Chancellor laughed. "I can't help it if I am her favorite."

"Whatever. The scientist you are talking about, you mean Wendy Powell? The one with daddy issues?"

"So, you've heard of her?" Connor inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Who hasn't, but why me?"

The Chancellor sat on the edge of his desk and set the empty glass down on its glossy surface. He put his left hand in his lap and the right one he waved around carelessly. "I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on her. Someone who can keep me informed about what is really going on in her little circle. I have to make sure she is someone to be trusted, unlike her fucked up father, Gene. That guy is something else."

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