Fine Tuning

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Khiy Aenikh had been a loyal servant of the Empire for nearly half his sixty years. Unlike many within his cohort, he chose to remain in service beyond his initial five years, the last fifteen spent in the company of the Tal'Shiar. That he had never progressed above the rank of major in such time was something of an open wound. But rank within Rihannsu military organizations was based on politics as much as it was capability – and while Khiy had been in favor with the previous cabal, the current powers that be had less than a passing interest. The result was great inequality between his social standing and his military rank.

 

He had tried to work his way into their better graces, had even held his tongue when some of their operations did not seem to be of benefit to the Empire – something he found very difficult. Thus, when he first heard of a plan within the upper echelon to provide weapons to disparate groups under Federation persuasion, he showed visible interest; he was taken into modest confidence where the scheme was considered. When he eventually learned that said Empire officials were working with the Federation, however, his stomach roiled. The Federation would be looking out for Federation interests, not the Empire. Interests may temporarily align, after all, but what good could ever come from aligning with such untrustworthy souls?

 

None, he thought, his jaw tightening. His hands gripped the railing as he once again looked out over the city. He had once again remained silent, feigned his continued interest. But this time, his silence had a personal cost: Ambassador Joval Aenikh, his wife's uncle, and the outspoken sponsor for their union, sought to stop the treasonous activity. He had been assassinated for his efforts.

 

Khiy now stood at an inevitable crossroad, one he now saw the Fates had been directing him toward his entire life. Remaining silent, remaining complicit bought him political power within the current Tal'Shiar leadership. But the honor of his house – and his affections – demanded retribution. In reality, there was no competition; he knew well what his choice must be.

 

Reaching up, Khiy brushed his hand against the small, concealed pocket sewn into the lining of his tunic. He could still feel the comforting inflexibility of the isolinear chip hidden there – an isolinear chip filled with as much information as he had been able to download without arousing suspicion: Names, dates, and a few internal reports that referenced the clandestine operation. Once done, he had encrypted the files with a Federation key, left over from the Dominion War. Any Rihan would have more than a little difficulty breaking the encryption…but it also meant that, should he be caught with it, he could be labeled a traitor himself. He had to get rid of the information quickly, providing it to the proper authorities within the Federation.

 

Behind him, the mechanical clock in the sitting room chimed a late hour. His wife would be waiting. The death of her uncle had caused her many sleepless nights; she found dreams only in his company. Recollection stirred his blood to boiling once again. She was a brave, loyal Rihan, his ailhun. She didn't deserve this pain, nor the pain of concealing such grief from the outside world. She did deserve revenge.

 

A slow, cold smile crept across his features. It could not be a coincidence that Gaius tr'Argelian, mercenary and friend, had returned from unofficial exile. Tr'Argelian would serve as the instrument of his retribution. As a true Rihan, he would understand. As a friend, he would make them pay.

 

***

Edited January 2, 2011 by Charlotte Matsumura