The aftermath of the star pirate raid rippled across the Imperial Galaxy like a stone thrown into still waters, except this stone had been laced with poison. Although it was already exposed before, it was only in the chaotic Imperial system.
Neville sat cross-legged on his bed, light brain clutched in both hands, scrolling through the endless cascade of news articles that had flooded StarNet over the past week.
[GALACTIC HEALTH CRISIS: Pheromone-Disrupting Drugs Traced to Pirate Network]
[RMAIDS IN TROUBLE: Oceanic Galaxy Seals Borders Amid Drug Trafficking Scandal]
[WATER KINGDOM WITHDRAWS FROM INTERSTELLAR TRADE—UNPRECEDENTED ISOLATION ASURES]
[Host, you’ve been staring at the sa three articles for forty-seven minutes,] Shelly’s voice chid in his consciousness.
Neville ignored Shelly and continued scrolling, searching for sothing. The defeated star pirates, in their final act of spite, had leaked everything. The exposé had sent shockwaves through every corner of civilized space, triggering the largest coordinated crackdown on illegal drug manufacturing in Imperial history.
And sowhere in all that chaos, rmaids had beco the galaxy’s most valuable commodity overnight.
Neville’s jaw tightened.
If he didn’t carefully hide his rmaid traits, would he already be target number one all over the universe? The thought of it made him shudder, and he thanked the system for its careful instructions as always.
The drugs had been designed to corrupt pheromone glands, to twist the delicate chemistry between alpha-oga dynamics into sothing profitable and controllable. But rmaids had suddenly transford into dical necessities after this drug ca out.
No wonder the Water Kingdom, headed by the rmaid royalty, had slamd its doors shut. Every rmaid in existence had just been painted with a massive target on their back. If they didn’t, every rmaid in their galaxy would be smuggled out.
[The Oceanic Galaxy’s trade suspension affects thirty-seven percent of the Empire’s seafood imports,] Shelly reported. [Host, you can’t cook any food with seafood in it, not even for yourself.]
"I’m not worried about being hunted down like so rare commodity if discovered, if that’s what you’re trying to say." Neville tossed his light brain onto the pillow beside him. "I’m worried about sothing else entirely."
[Oh?]
He stared at the ceiling. "I’ve gone through every single article about the crackdown. Every report. Every official statent from the Imperial Military Command."
[And?]
"Not once." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Not a single ntion of Grayson’s na."
[Host. Just now, Lieutenant General Helena Popova received a comndation,] Shelly said after a mont. [Her departnt spearheaded the coordinated raids across multiple planets. Very impressive, really. The woman knows how to leverage resources.]
"I know you’re trying to say that she’s under Grayson." Neville sat up abruptly, frustration bleeding into his movents. "Everyone who tried to research for a second about anything about the Imperial Military, about General Maxwell, will stumble on the previous military hierarchy diagram. Then, they will know that she was once his subordinate during his active service years. Every tactical decision she made had his fingerprints all over it."
[Host, perhaps you—]
"We did everything—I did for Grayson’s sake." Neville’s hands curled into fists against his thighs. "The information. The tracking codes. The operational support. Grayson pulled so strings behind the scenes that nobody will ever see. Only Helena gets to stand in front of the caras accepting dals while he—"
He stopped himself, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.
He wasn’t acting like himself. He already knew why, but he couldn’t help but feel this resentnt. This situation really left a bitter taste down his throat.
Shelly couldn’t relate; maybe it was because she could only identify feelings as romance if there were two people in front of her. But she said, [It’s really touching to see you get so invested in your target’s wellbeing.]
"That’s not it." Neville lowered his hands, "It’s about fairness. He deserves credit for what he did."
[Does he want that credit himself?]
The question hit harder than it should have.
No. Grayson had never seed like soone who craved recognition. If anything, he seed to actively avoid it.
But that didn’t make it right.
[Host,] Shelly’s tone changed to sothing more serious, [perhaps you should give yourself so space to breathe. You’re not following your own plans to beco just a re employee beside Grayson. It’s not good for your emotional and ntal health.]
"Never mind." Neville threw himself back onto the bed. "You’re just making more frustrated than I already was."
[Welp. If that’s what you want.] Shelly said, shrugging in her own little Shelly way.
Neville’s light brain suddenly buzzed and opened it.
FROM: B.Stewart
SUBJECT: Urgent Assignnt - Report to Executive Floor
To:Neville Hope,
Per Mr. Maxwell’s authorization, you are hereby temporarily reassigned from your Technical Assistant position to serve as Acting Secretary to the CEO. Chief Secretary Bryan Stewart will be conducting off-planetary negotiations regarding new resource acquisition and cannot attend to daily operations during this period.
Report to the Executive Floor at 0700 sharp—professional attire required. A detailed briefing will be provided upon arrival.
This assignnt is effective imdiately and will continue until further notice.
—Chief Secretary Bryan Stewart
Neville read the ssage three tis, certain he had sohow misunderstood.
[Congratulations, host!] Shelly’s voice sparkled with genuine excitent. [This is a good opportunity! Direct access to the target for extended periods, perfect—]
"I’m being promoted to Temporary Secretary." The words felt foreign on his tongue. ". A Technical Assistant? Is that even right?"
[Host, you’ve been slaving yourself at a secretary-level capacity for months now, even as a Technical Assistant. Bryan has eyes. He knows talent when he sees it.]
"But why ?" Neville sat up again, mind racing. "There are senior secretaries in the departnt. Sarah has more experience. The entire chain of command exists for a reason."
[Perhaps because none of them can do what you do?] Shelly suggested. [Your performance trics have been off the charts since day one. The Black Ocean Project alone put you on the executive radar. This isn’t favoritism, host.]
Neville wanted to argue, but a different thought flashed in his mind.
[Your scheming face is showing,] Shelly observed. [I approve.]
"It’s not scheming," Neville muttered, already ntally rembering his professional wardrobe options. "Just planning."
[Sure, you’re not.]
User Comments
0 comments from readers