Chapter 63

The station hung like a Christmas tree bauble under the firmament of the stars in the system of Strichen, an uninhabited red dwarf system on the border of the Emirate closest to the Empire. Although somewhat old by current standards, the station at least had pleasingly aesthetic looks and had been further modified by the Empire’s Bureaucracy of Interstellar Infrastructure both internally and externally to fit the occasion of a Royal wedding, including a full battlestar defensive grid.

“Bit of a rush job,” Taisha commented to her sub-ordinate, Senior Monitor Loor.

“We kind of got used to that during the Hegemony conflict, Meritocrat Taisha,” he replied with a grin, his enthusiasm for the job of spacial infrastructure matching her own.

“Well, as ever, we succeeded and have a grand spectacle prepared for the wedding,” she nodded as she noticed her fiancé enter the central chamber from the space dock where his heavy fighter was docked after a patrol as ordered by Admiral Awach of the 13^th Fleet who were in charge of the Imperial security of the system (though not the internal security of the station).

Mance smiled when he saw Taisha talking to Loor. They had become friends, then lovers, after the battle of Vircon when his 43^rd Heavy Fighter Squadron had bought her and the other civilians manning the only partially built battlestar grid drinks for their efforts in keeping them alive during the tenser moments of the battle.

The love had deepened to the extent that the once ‘bachelor supreme’ Mance had asked her to marry him and despite the difficulties of only catching up with each other when their various leaves allowed, it worked well for both of them.

“Mance,” Taisha greeted him with a brilliant smile.

“My Lady,” he replied with a similar smile.

“Everyone behaving out there?” she asked, alluding to the fact that there was an Emirate fleet also nosing around the system.

“Yes, the Emirate are sticking to their allotted areas and trying to scan us if we approach the delineation boundaries.”

“And vice versa, no doubt,” she giggled.

“Oh yes,” he chuckled. “I think the people who watch the wedding will be impressed,” he added, looking around.

“Hope so, from what I’ve been told the media have been talking about it non-stop for the last binary cycle since the date was announced.”

“Not every day we have a Royal wedding,” he nodded. “Hell, it could be centuries before we get another.”

“True, which is why we pulled out all the stops to make the Bureaucracy look good.”

“Soon be our turn,” he noted.

“Yes, my love, though that will be on Vreekoos. My mother insists.”

“As does mine, though she’s still somewhat in awe of your upper level family.”

“Your family are lovely and I like visiting them when I have to call into Vreekoos to report.”

“Well, as this will be my last tour, you’ll have me to come home to.”

“Looking forward to that. Have you decided what it is you’re going to do?”

“Test pilot for the Urton Luxury Space Yacht Corporate seems the best choice. They also have a racing team I hope to try to get into,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Do they have a position available?”

“Yes. Their senior pilot intends to retire and move out to the outer edge of Stellar Area Seven where he intends to start up his own trading company, trading with the Halland Confederacy as trading restrictions are being lifted due to the new government there becoming more open.”

“Hope you don’t get bored; the yachts aren’t fighters.”

“I won’t. I’ll be working with the AIs and design teams from start to finish, so there will be lots to do.”

“Life will be fun when we can see each other regularly,” she giggled and gave him a smouldering glance as well.

“Oh yes!”

“We have our invites,” Kirim told me after I returned from working in Medical Resource.

“To the wedding?”

“Yes. Manny also asked if Kiria could be a bridesmaid ... whatever that is.”

I explained the old Earth tradition to Kirim who looked enthralled as Imperial marriages did not involve anything of the like nor, as far as she was aware, did any other Realm.

“It’s weird the things you remember,” she finally said.

“I usually can’t remember anything until something or other, such as talking to Manny and Herrick about her wedding, seems to jog something loose,” I shrugged.

“Still, our little girl gets to shine in front of an audience of trillions,” Kirim giggled. “Apparently she’s getting a special dress made and escorts Manny to where Grigo will be waiting to exchange vows.”

“Yes, Janilla is a bit worried about that as anyone in the audience could take a shot at her as she’s totally exposed.”

“I’m sure she’ll come up with something, she usually does.”

“Manny refused to wear armour under her dress, I know that,” I chuckled, making Kirim grin as well.

“Do you think she’ll be in danger?” Kirim asked, becoming serious again.

“No, but it’s Janilla’s job to look out for it, plus the AIs will be scanning for energy sources as well, plus Grigo’s people will also be looking out for stuff like that.”

“Yes, I suspect more people in the Emirate will be out to get him than Amantil,” Kirim nodded.

“Probably. We dealt with the biggest danger to Manny when we finally caught Duvrach, plus the Empire isn’t at war with anyone at the moment.”

“Still a bit of insurrection going on, on Asha and Sanctify as they struggle to come to terms with being in the Empire, though it has been pointed out to them that they are free to leave to go back to the Republic.”

“I doubt that they have the skills necessary to come after Manny on the space station, but no doubt Janilla has thought about it anyway,” I chuckled.

“No doubt,” Kirim replied with a grin.

“I don’t like the fact that I can’t protect you, Serenissima,” Janilla stated formally to Amantil.

“Are we having this conversation again?”

“It’s my job!”

“Well ... there may be a way to get you and Truvia right next to me...”

“Go on...”

“Well, you know I’m having Dave’s daughter, Kiria, and Bonsarr’s daughter, Haelee, as bridesmaids?”

“Yes, whatever one of them is.”

“The dress I’m wearing comes with what they call a train which flows behind me. The bridesmaids hold it back and ensure it doesn’t bunch up.”

“OK...”

“There is, however, what they call maids of honour who, according to Dave, used to accompany the bride up the aisle and ensure her safety ... or prevent her running away, Dave wasn’t so clear on that part.”

“Sounds good, you have two maids of honour, ready willing and able ... so long as the ... costumes are free flowing and can conceal weapons.”

“They’d better be or I won’t hear the end of this, will I?”

“No, you won’t.”

“Very well. The Royal dressmaker has been summoned and she’ll ensure you both look lovely and match my and the bridesmaids’ attire.”

“Thank you, Serenissima.”

“Sometimes wonder just who is running the Empire at times,” Amantil sighed.

“You are, Serenissima ... so long as you do what we say regarding your security,” Janilla replied with a sly grin.

“White? Why white?” Herrick asked as Amantil relaxed in his arms after what was for her a stressful day dealing with people who wanted to do their best for her so long as she did it their way.

“According to Dave it was the colour brides wore when getting married back in his day,” Amantil replied. “It represents purity.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Don’t laugh as I know I’m not exactly pure,” she giggled.

“I suspect the symbolism appeals though.”

“Oh yes. The court-following newsies will all be briefed on the ancient symbolism of the ceremony. Though not just how old the symbolism is, naturally.”

“It will be unique; I’ll grant you that. I suspect you may even set a trend.”

“Perhaps. The Royal dressmaker is overjoyed at the ideas I’ve given her. Though naturally I haven’t told her where they came from.”

“That’s Tallica Evon?” Herrick enquired.

“Yes. She prefers women and is a little hostile to the fact that men can actually think fashion.”

“Yes, I know her well. I once faced a diatribe from her over the formal uniforms used by ImpSec female Monitors. ‘Dressing them in packing sacks’ was her kindest sentiment.”

“I have to acknowledge they don’t do the ladies any favours,” Amantil admitted. “But that level of micromanagement is beyond your purview and should be handled by the Bureaucrat in charge, assuming they want to. Most of the staff wear coveralls anyway.”

“True, even the Supervisor Monitors, who aren’t supposed to.”

“Don’t blame them.”

“Just received notice, the daughter of the Supreme Ruler of the Melanoqui will be representing that Realm at the wedding,” Bonsarr told her friend Honack as the two ladies supped a cavat as they went over reams of information on the coming event.