Minister Gyrini, Civilian security minister for the Glaucus Star Cluster, landed on Arkane at 11:04 AM on the civilian landing dock in the north section of the Outer Ring of Okoia. Already she was irritated; interior, more secure landing in the Central district should have been available to her, but no; she had to land in the slummy, civilian landing docks. While ‌this ‌dock, separate from the other shipping docks, was better kept than all the others, the smell of the water and the slums that surrounded it disgusted her. 

 

It also bothered her that there was no welcome party for her. There was just one little man waiting at the end of the dock for her as she made her way down the walking path from her ship. 

 

“Minister Gyrini, so glad you’re here.” Liaison Lucas said. She had expected that waste of space Noss, or even Vassel Buteo, to greet her. She hadn’t expected Lucas. 

 

“Liaison Lucas.” She snapped, her voice cold and sharp. “Vassel Buteo keeps you busy running his errands, I see.” 

 

Lucas gave a nervous laugh as he stepped aside. “You know Vassel Buteo has me doing most of his work.” He said, “Anything he’s too… preoccupied to do.” 

 

She knew that tone, and she knew the hidden meaning of the words he had so carefully picked. Drugs, sex, or some other preoccupation? Well, it didn’t matter. Buteo was as useful to her as mold in her chitin. As long as he stayed out of the way, she’d be fine. 

 

Still, he could have at least sent someone with a higher rank than the liaison. 

 

“Another four synths down?” She said as they made their way to the vehicle that sat nearby. “Impressive. How many is that now?” 

 

“This last batch gets us up to an even dozen.” Lucas said, “No bodies, no clues, no ransom requests-“ 

 

“That last one doesn’t surprise me.” She said, More resources would be useful to the Insurgency, and they had ransomed people off before, but never a synth. They were likely too dangerous to keep as a prisoner. 

 

Just as she knew she would be if they captured her. 

 

“What has Noss done since their disappearance?” She’d have to connect with him, get his plans, his information. That she would have to work with that awful, stupid man infuriated her more than anything. 

 

Lucas shrugged. “He disappeared too.” He admitted. 

 

If one were watching carefully, they’d catch the faintest jolt in her step - one of her back legs seeming to catch on nothing before continuing on. 

 

“Was he taken by the insurgents as well?” She asked. 

 

“Unknown. Once they were missing, he just-” Lucas snapped, “Gone. Just like that.” He glanced up at her, “You… don’t suppose he was involved, do you?”

 

“No.” She said, “He’s too much of a coward for that. He likely ran off to avoid facing the consequences of his ineptitude.” That was entirely fine by her- just one less person to hold her back. “What was Vassel Buteo done in the meantime?” 

 

“He’s just waiting for you. I sent the reports to King Decon, who said he was sending you first, and redirecting a squadron of synths who would enact martial law upon landing. “

 

“And King Decon’s orders in the meantime?” 

 

“He gave none. We were just told to deal with the situation and make do with civilian security before His synths arrived.” 

 

‘Make do with civilian security.’ That meant her. Her mandibles clicked and her eyes narrowed. She hated being called a civilian. Of course, she knew that the distinction was simple; Synths were military, and anything that wasn’t synth was civilian. It wasn’t fair, though; It wasn’t her fault that she was born Chalybion and not a synth. She had been older than she should have been when she learned one couldn’t become a synth. She still remembered that day when it felt like her hearts broke. In school, standing before the other schoolchildren who wanted to build bots or be doctors or travel space when they grew up. Her pronouncement that she wanted to be one of King Decon’s special guards met only uproarious laughter from her peers. 

 

“Gyrini, sweetie,” her kindly but very dull teacher had said back then, “King Decon makes his synths. You can’t be one.” 

 

“Minister Gyrini?” 

 

Gyrini snapped back to attention. She had suddenly landed herself back in that awful classroom, surrounding by idiotic, laughing schoolchildren. The familiar shame and self-hatred that plagued her when she ended up doing that flooded her as she stepped up to the door that Lucas was holding open.  

 

She was an adult now. That shouldn’t bother her. How did a memory from so many years ago still shine so vividly in her mind?

 

“Apologies.” she said as she got into the vehicle. I was deep in thought.” 

 

Lucas climbed in next to her, and the vehicle took off, taking them out of the wretched Outer Ring. 

 

“So, you’ve done nothing since the synths went missing?” 

 

“Correct.” 

 

“And their ship is still there?” 

 

“Correct. King Decon has not granted us authorization to its interior yet, so we’ve not returned it-” 

 

“Don’t bother.” Gyrini snapped, “I’m putting the entire planet on lockdown.” 

 

“… What?”

 

“Lockdown. Until the synths are here to say otherwise, nothing enters or leaves the planet’s atmosphere. We shut all the space docks down.” After a moment of Lucas simply staring at her, she snapped, “Well, go ahead. Give that order, and give me authorization to your planet's network so I can start placing orders myself. “

 

“R-right. Right away, Minister Gyrini.” Lucas stammered as he pulled out his communicator and sent off orders. 

 

It was only a moment later when her own communicator chimed, telling her ‌she now had planetary authorization. Excellent. She downloaded the information for all the ships that had left the planet since the synths went missing, and sent out an alert to all planets in the star cluster, as well as the portal docks to freeze any of the noted ships, and investigate the people and the contents within.

 

“How long will the lockdown last?” Lucas said 

 

“Until the synths arrive. They will be the next ones landing on the planet. Unless we ‌deal with the situation ourselves” 

 

“But if we’re waiting for them, that could lock us down for weeks, or months! If I may, with this started right now, we’ll have major supply chain issues. Arkane is a residential planet, not a production one! We rely on imports from our production planets -“ 

 

“Then that should be further encouragement for this sham of an insurgency to surrender, shouldn’t it?” She snapped. “And might reduce some civilian support. In the news broadcast, be sure to emphasize that we had no choice but to do this because of the actions of the insurgency. “

 

“… Is there really no choice? I mean.” He frowned, his brows knitting together as though he was desperately trying to fit together her logic in his mind, “if we limit traffic to official ships and cargo ships-“ 

 

“No. I want a full lockdown.” She pulled up another file, looking for orders placed by the synths before they went out of contact. Of course, most of the information was either easily available, or protected behind layers of authorization that she did not have. 

 

Still… she wanted to see whatever she could. She still believed in her theory, even though King Decon had brushed it off. Given the use of technology, the protected information the insurgents had, and the lack of ransom demands, she believed that at least one synth had to be working with the insurgency. She knew as well that King Decon had to know this. 

 

Of course, he simply couldn’t admit it. Not to civilians. He could only share such trusted information with those of the highest ranking; His most trusted and accomplished synths. Still… if she could prove that the synths were complicit in the insurgency, and if she herself could outsmart them and bring them to justice, then maybe she could prove herself to Him.

 

If she could squash the insurgency before the synths arrived, achieve something that a dozen synths before her could not, maybe she’d prove that she was good enough to serve him directly; that not only was she as good as a synth, she was better. 

 

“It’s done.” Lucas said as an alert came up on his own communicator. “The planet is in lockdown.” 

 

“Excellent.” Gyrini said. “Now we put out an order of arrest for Noss.” 

 

“Because he ran?” 

 

“In part. Either he ran to avoid consequences, or he ran because he was complicit. Either way, he needs to be found. I’m also placing a special order; Anybody on Arkane currently who was not born here needs to check in with planetary authorities.” As she caught Lucas’ shocked expression, she simply said, “I can put that order in myself. I don’t need you.” 

 

“Why do we need-“ 

 

“Because I say so.” She snapped. She needed to do this to see who was here on the planet, and who could check in. Of course, there was another highly guarded secret that she needed to know as well. 

 

What did a synth look like out of armor? If there were synths working with the insurgency, then since nobody knew what they looked like out of armor, they’d be able to wander about the planet freely, and without disguise. If there were twelve missing synths, and twelve missing off-planet visitors to Arkane who looked even remotely similar, then she could probably make assumptions about how they looked. 

 

“… Some of our visitors might take exception to that.” Lucas said, “They may not appreciate-“ 

 

“I don’t very much care about what they appreciate.” She snapped as she sent off the orders, “I care about fixing this mess that this planet's shoddy government has gotten themselves into.” 

 

Another vehicle passing nearby just outside their own startled her, and she left a shiver at what felt to her to be a too-close pass. She wasn’t used to being on a planet anymore and not used to moving vessels coming so close to one another. Just before adolescence, she earned a place in a civilian military school, which was stationed in orbit around a production planet. Since then, she had worked mostly on different ships, working up the ranks until she finally held one of the highest positions a civilian could hold. 

 

Still civilian though. It still wasn’t good enough. One day, she’d have the privilege that synths were made with. 

 

The privilege which, she was certain, at least one synth had squandered.