Božidar Dvořák's Story

Božidar Dvořák was seated at the far end of the fairly small table beside his wife, the two of them towering over nearly everyone else in the room. At the other end of the table, the plump woman with the long gray hair was poring over what appeared to be several pages of handwritten notes on lined paper with a red pen. Božidar was dressed in a t-shirt bearing a mathematical joke and fading jeans, while Jelisaveta was dressed a bit more conservatively and formally in a beige pantsuit and cranberry dress top. The biologist, Luljeta Beqiri, was wearing a mulberry shirt and jeans half-hidden under a white laboratory coat and a thoughtful frown. Ahmad Fazari was on Luljeta's other side, holding a decent-sized manila folder as his fingers flicked through the pages. "It's unfortunately going to be a complex situation," he said, shaking his head. "Apparently, she could be held anywhere." Claudia Fereira, seated across from Ahmad,

was seated at the far end of the fairly small table beside his wife, the two of them towering over nearly everyone else in the room. At the other end of the table, the plump woman with the long gray hair was poring over what appeared to be several pages of handwritten notes on lined paper with a red pen. Božidar was dressed in a t-shirt bearing a mathematical joke and fading jeans, while Jelisaveta was dressed a bit more conservatively and formally in a beige pantsuit and cranberry dress top. The biologist, Luljeta Beqiri, was wearing a mulberry shirt and jeans half-hidden under a white laboratory coat and a thoughtful frown.

Ahmad Fazari was on Luljeta's other side, holding a decent-sized manila folder as his fingers flicked through the pages. "It's unfortunately going to be a complex situation," he said, shaking his head. "Apparently, she could be held anywhere." Claudia Fereira, seated across from Ahmad, slumped in her seat while her restless fingers searched her denim jacket for a cigarette out of habit.

Božidar Dvořák was seated at the far end of the fairly small table beside his wife, the two of them towering over nearly everyone else in the room. At the other end of the table, the plump woman with the long gray hair was poring over what appeared to be several pages of handwritten notes on lined paper with a red pen. Božidar was dressed in a t-shirt bearing a mathematical joke and fading jeans, while Jelisaveta was dressed a bit more conservatively and formally in a beige pantsuit and cranberry dress top. The biologist, Luljeta Beqiri, was wearing a mulberry shirt and jeans half-hidden under a white laboratory coat and a thoughtful frown.

Ahmad Fazari was on Luljeta's other side, holding a decent-sized manila folder as his fingers flicked through the pages. "It's unfortunately going to be a complex situation," he said, shaking his head. "Apparently, she could be held anywhere." Claudia Fereira, seated across from Ahmad, slumped in her seat while her restless fingers searched her denim jacket for a cigarette out of habit.

"Well, we have the list of potential locations that Mr. Dvořák provided," said Ahmad, sliding over the page to Aerilyn beside him. He sighed as he spoke, tucking his feet against the bar on the chair, turning to the next page in the manila folder.

"She's likely to be held in Tal'dor, Ragnaar, Hadante, Molecay, the Pan-Check system, or the Cosmora Arcihpelago, which are combined, both the most secure locations as well as the most likely locations to take a prisoner of such high stature. It is extremely unlikely that Arianne is still on or anywhere near Terra," said Božidar, echoing the same list on the paper in Ahmad's file. "Still, it's a large galaxy." He crossed his legs, leaning over the table, and ran his fingers through his bushy beard for a few seconds.

"We'd have to verify that information in order for the best possible allocation of our resources," said Božidar, "because the risk of expending all of our resources allocated for this operation in the wrong geographic location far outweighs the potential benefits of attempting to pinpoint Arianne's location without concrete evidence of where she is being specifically held. Nevertheless, it seems that it would be extremely difficult to obtain that information, or to confirm that their goal is to inflict the maximum amount of pain possible. These pictures seem to indicate something to that effect," he said, "though their goal may simply be to extract information or to simply warehouse her if they have no further need for direct interaction. These possibilities must be at least considered."

"We don't have anyone near any of these regions at this time, no," said Ahmad, "though it would be possible to send two-man reconnaissance missions to gather at least rudimentary information about those locations. Unfortunately, that type of recon wouldn't be able to determine where the Director is." Though he was filling her shoes, he could not help but to refer to Drulović as the Director, a position she had not held in a long while.

"I'm sorry," Božidar said, blinking slowly. "I'm not always aware of, well, I don't always pay attention to what, what I'm saying. If I have a habit of, well, uh, if I speak that way, it's, it's probably because I tried to, uh, script it before, beforehand." He sunk lower in his seat, as if he were a whipped dog.

"I'm not opposed to ordering recon for the areas where she's likely being held," said Ahmad, jotting a brief note on the side of the manila folder. He turned aside the page he'd been looking at only to stare at Drulović's face on the propaganda poster. With a brief cringe, he turned that page over as well. "Mr. Dvořák, do you have any suggestions for actually gathering the kind of evidence you mean? To find out what the Aschen's goal is, that is." He stared at the bearded man, as if willing him to answer the question.

Božidar watched as Austin took his seat, his gaze flickering back to Ahmad for a few seconds. "Well, you could always attempt to tap information from the Aschen themselves. That, or you could attempt to place someone inside their computer systems to locate her; unlike Arianne, they tend to keep copious records, if encrypted."

"I'm sure locating someone with the computer prowess wouldn't be too difficult," said the biologist, speaking up for the first time in her heavily accented English. She pushed long strands of silver hair behind her broad shoulders, pulling her chair closer to the table. "Considering that we have a good portion of the military and the TIB in this fleet, I imagine it wouldn't be too hard to do that. But as Mr. Dvořák mentioned during the larger meeting, we'll need an entire team to do that."

"If they're inside her mind," said the bearded man, "then they'll have images of all of us seated in this room. Agent Fereira and Agent Marshall because they're from the Bureau, myself and Jelisa because we're Arianne's relatives, Ahmad for the obvious reason, and—well, actually, Professor Beqiri, I don't think—no, you said, you said that you were Arianne's friend, didn't you?" He blinked slowly at the woman. "I suppose they'd have your image too, if they've decoded enough of the information in her brain."

Jelisaveta Dvořák arched her eyebrows. "Yes, just like class," she muttered, pushing her bangs from her face. "I'm a writer and an editor. I analyze and I criticize. Most of my work is uninteresting and tiresome. I mediate conflict. That's about it."

"I'm a professor of biology," said Luljeta Beqiri with a shrug. "I don't know what that makes me, Agent Marshall." The older woman spoke carefully, as if she were conscious of her meaning-obscuring accent and were attempting to work around it. "I spend my time conducting research and mentoring and instructing students. Possibly, I know more about biochemical compounds than most of you care to learn about."

"I kick in doors," said Claudia Fereira, leaning back in her seat with a feral grin. "My best scores in training were always in shooting. I think I was in the class that graduated after yours, Marshall. 'm not too bad with surveillance or interrogation, either."

"I've seen you around the Durrani building," Fereira said with a shrug. "I think it was sometime around when Fazari took over from Drulović, maybe in the hallway. I dunno. Or maybe it was a little before. You were in Cairo for a while, weren't you? With Musharafna? She's a strange woman, that one. And you," said Fereira to the TETRS trooper. "I don't know your name, but I approve. More firepower is always good."

Dvořák grimaced, running his fingers through his beard. "Yeah, I, uh, I'm not really good with a weapon. Do I have to shoot anything to be part of this group?"

"No, but it would be helpful," said Ahmad. "After all, I'm just here to help coordinate, and that's about it." He closed the file folder that he'd been looking through, and glanced at Aerilyn beside him. "We've got several people very skilled with weapons in the room, so that's good."

"She's not on Terra," said Božidar, shaking his head. "Not even close. There's -- they wouldn't keep her there. She's long gone. And it's my opinion that her location would be difficult to obtain information, and not information that -- well, not something they'd tell anyone in their own government automatically. Maybe just a few people, the people closest -- well, people who McGregor trusts. Your average soldier or even LDA agent, I don't -- they wouldn't know where she was taken." Božidar rubbed his hands together, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "There's two ways we're going to get that information. Someone high-up tells us or someone high-up gives us a trap. The only way to know for sure is getting into their computer system."

"That course of action has the best possible chance of success," said Božidar, "and the smallest chance of risk. I'm certain there are people in this fleet capable of carrying out that task. As such a large number of the TIB's people are here, there must be qualified people." He rocked back and forth in his seat for a few moments as he spoke, running his hand over his jaw. "The mainframe would potentially hold the best source of information." He paused, blinking. "On the other hand, the only individual who I am reasonably certain would know where Arianne is would be Sheila Nagala, though I can't see any possible way to get the information from her. Arianne is an 'enemy of the state.' Her status is a prisoner of war. I'm not sure of the technical details of how that works, but that's how the Aschen have classified her."

"Mr. Dvořák, can you see about identifying the best possible locations to launch the remote hacking attempt from?" Ahmad asked. "You seem to be good at doing that kind of analysis. Until then, Austin, Aerilyn, I'm going to leave the tactical details to you. Without a specific location yet, we can't do too much in that way, but we can start to strategize about entry and exit, as well as how you're going to stealth the squad, if possible."

An honor guard from the Terran Marines, in full dress uniform, greeted the Aschen delegation at the helipad behind Government Center, escorting them into the building through one of the restored -- and quite lovely -- entrances. Ordinarily, the helipad's use was a privilege conferred only upon members of Parliament and the occasional agency head, but once in a while, Božidar Dvořák, as was his right, granted special privileges to diplomatic arrivals for formal visits. Today, amazingly, the esteemed guests were Elanna Torres, Leda Travell, and Marlene McGregor, on behalf of His Majesty, Emperor of the Aschen. Božidar only agreed to this visit upon Prime Minister Khayyam's insistence that he accept the request for it.

The man had not been anyone's guess as to whom would be Terra's next Minister of Foreign Affairs, not since election of ministerial heads had been removed to the Prime Minister's appointing power, and Salma Y. H. Khayyam had friends and business partners spanning multiple planets, multiple systems, multiple empires. Any one of them, surely, would have been her appointee.

Perhaps Chester M. Taymoudjian, chairman of Taymas Industries, or L. Jemeli Ngomba, heir to the Ngomba-Shah fortune (rumored to be nearly four quadrillion credits now) and founder of New Shah Tech, which had reaped exponential dividends for its shareholders ever since Ngomba's strategic choice to launch an IPO on her great-grandmother's 120th birthday, culturally significant on her homeworld of Tau Beta. Maybe even Luis Galdámez, Terra's second Prime Minister, who had served with distinction and honor, leading Terra's people through a constitutional crisis.

Not Božidar Dvořák.

He was aged, fat, and mild-mannered, preferring to stay in the background and advise quietly, skills that had made him an effective diplomat, and later ambassador, offworld. But he had few political connections to speak of, unless you counted his mother-in-law, Terra's spymaster and intelligence director, whose calls he refused steadfastly to even accept the majority of the time. He was not of aristrocratic or even bourgeois origins. He looked uncomfortable in a suit, and entirely out of place with his untamed dark curls, and now nearly belly-length beard, among the other ministerial heads during Government meetings with the Prime Minister.

But here he was, and today, tasked with hearing out the Aschen delegation's no doubt duplicitous requests, while entertaining them with an official dinner. God, he was exhausted already.

"Bring them in," Božidar said, pressing a button to speak via intercom to his majordomo. And with that, the Aschen were escorted into the Ministerial Parlour for reception. Božidar straightened his tie, and went to meet them.

The three followed in almost lock step, surveying the sights surrounding them. It had been some time since the Aschen had made themselves really known around Terra, having opted to engage in other galactic affairs, thus the changes of the Aschen Empire were largely obscured to the Terrans.

Minister Travell looked the most annoyed at everything, but she was a long standing member of the Aschen Government, she was there during the Confederation, as Chancellor General of the Justice Ministry, and inevitably, through the Imperial reforms as the Minister of Law.

Elanna was tasked with the formalities, and as Božidar went to greet them, she was the one to offer an outstretched hand, her clean, pressed uniform giving her an air of formality, dark greys, trimmed with equally dark blues, and a side cap tucked under her left arm.

Her right hand was outstretched, ready to accept Božidar in a firm handshake.

"Your Excellency, I am Commander Elanna Torres, and this is Her Honor, Ministers Leda Travell, and Judge Magister McGregor." Elanna said, as Leda reached forward to take Božidar's hand, with Marlene following suit.

"I presume that you've been informed as to the reason we called this meeting." Marlene said cooly. "I'd like to address a few grievances before we get into our discussions in earnest... if you would." The Judge Magister said, gesturing for Božidar to lead the way.

Božidar took each proffered hand in a firm handshake, nodding politely in greeting to each of the Aschen delegation members. His own majordomo stood a bit behind and to the side, as attendants liveried in the Terran national colors set forth an offering of rich coffees, teas, and pastries in the parlour.

"An honor to receive you all, Commander Torres," Božidar said. "Please, be seated."

The parlour was finely appointed with hand-built furnishings in a fusion of Italianate and Turkish styles, arranged artfully around the the marble fireplace with the Terran seal engraved above the hearth. Božidar hadn't chosen the divan, settee, or high-backed accent chairs, but whoever had had chosen pieces with upholstery so soft and carefully embroidered, he could practically feel wealth when he touched the cloth. Personally, he'd have preferred soft, comfortable, and affordable. But the formal reception parlour, of course, had to have the best for its guests of state.

"My aides briefed me yesterday afternoon, and I've read the letter of transmittal your offices sent in advance of your visit, so I'm familiar, yes," Božidar said, gesturing for his guests to partake of the refreshments before them. "But please, tell me how I can assist the Aschen Empire today."

Once the introductions were finished, Commander Torres took that as her cue to leave the negotiations to the professionals at this point. She hadn't been briefed, only asked to escort them to Terra and provide security during their negotiations.

Inclining her head respectfully, she opted to find somewhere else to be, preferably near the hors d'oeuvres.

"Judge Magister, if you would?" Minister Travell said, while Marlene cleared her throat, and smoothed the pleates in what she viewed was a hot, and uncomfortable robe.

Curse the Emperor and his love of robes for his government officials.

"Ahem.." She said, clearing her throat. "Your Excellency, it's come to our attention that your government has arrested, launched an investigation, and is in the process of... as of now..." She checked the display on her watch, the soft blue holographic text flickering in her eye.

"Prosecuting in a court of law... a citizen of the Aschen Empire in good standing.." She politely glanced over to Minister Travell. "Curious as to when your government was planning to inform the Consular General Tarthus, prior to moving forward with judicial proceedings." Marlene inquired.

"We discovered this arrest from your world's media outlets, and through several sources, curious as to why protocol was not followed, His Majesty, Isambard Prince sent us to inquire as to why, and investigate other possibilities, perhaps the communique was lost in transmission?"

Božidar leaned slightly forward in his seat, looking directly at Marlene as she spoke. Even seated, the Slavic man was nearly a full head taller than her. He often found himself the tallest in a room, unless his wife was present, with an inch or two on him even. Ah yes, he remembered the Kenton case. Going on now, next door in the West Wing, which suddenly felt far, far too close.

"Yes, the trial is set to begin today," Božidar replied with a nod. "I don't understand your claim of no notification, though, Judge Magister. The Office of the Prosecutor General sent the notification within fourteen days, in accordance with international customary law, to Consular General Tarthus, and that was ... over a year ago. What happened after OPG sent the notification, I wouldn't be able to tell you."

The majordomo, in dress whites, silently proffered copies of the document in question, a standard letter notifying a consulate or embassy of a foreign state of the arrest and charges filed against one of its nationals, confirmed sent long before the visit of the day. The Terrans had clearly anticipated the not so subtle provocation and prepared for it.

"Here it is, though since you now know of your citizen's pending trial, there's no more need to relitigate the notification." Božidar adjusted his glasses, and reached for a cup of the steaming tea, downing half of it in one gulp. It was one vice that seemed to run on both sides of the family.

Marlene quietly took the documents, and examined them closely, looking at the dates, and the times in question, while Travell spoke in a somewhat hushed tone.

"Cur non hoc officium meum?"

Marlene quietly replied. "Ego sum certus." She quipped back, going over the notifications. "Aliquis in hac pila fluens."

Travell briefly pursed her lips in frustration, taking the documentation from Marlene and examining them. "Et Lucia vocant mane."

Marlene briefly nodded, shifting in her seat. She was still going over their documentation. "Et hoc est non bonum." She said to herself in Anquietas.

"I would like to know where he is being housed, so that I can make arrangements to speak with him, as well as offer him his state appointed legal counsel, as well as read him his rights as a citizen of the Empire." She explained, crossing one leg over the other, and placing her hands folded in her lap, while leaning forward as best as the awkward robes would allow. "He has an active arrest warrant, so it's likely an extradition request would make it's way to your office... The media frenzy surrounding this trial has made some in the Empire uneasy, we would like to make this go away quietly, preferably in an Aschen triad."

Travell said little, opting to allow the younger, more passionate Judge Magister do the speaking.

Božidar exhaled slowly. "I believe Mr. Kenton is ... " His majordomo leaned to whisper something. "Yes, well, he's been held in the Wing City Jail. I'm not entirely sure whether that's changed, if the Justice Ministry has decided to have him moved somewhere more secure. I'll have one of my staff look into it."

Setting the tea down on a small side table, curiously constructed from marble as well, Božidar sighed. "As for your other request, Judge Magister, you have to understand that that simply isn't possible right now. After the conclusion of the current trial, yes, perhaps. But the trial's begun. The press is here. Interstellar, too. It'd be much more of a news catastrophe if it were to suddenly stop after starting, frankly. And you understand, there'd have to be guarantees, assurances, reciprocation... It couldn't just happen, and if it does happen, it's going to have to wait until the verdict here. That's just respect for the process."

He had a strong and nagging suspicion, though, that this visit was much more than a mere formality or anything that it might seem on the surface. And that worried him.

Travell offered a slight nod, then brought her gaze over towards Marlene.

"Of course." The Judge Magister responded. "We understand the... lethargic pace in which your justice system moves, it would take some time for an extradition request to make their way through our own legal system anyways." She explained.

"I'm curious if he has representation..." Marlene stopped a moment as Elanna approached them, and leaned over to whisper.

"Grand Confessor Kesslee is here... he landed a few centons ago." The Aschen Commander said softly. Marlene subtly, nervously fidgeted with her hands, this was not a good turn of events, if Grand Confessor Kesslee was here, then that meant the Emperor was watching these events much more closely than she was led to believe.

"Can you arrange for me to meet with him, upon the conclusion of our meeting here, and his trial for today?" Marlene asked.

"What sort of guarantees, and reciprocities are you getting at, Minister?" Travell asked in a pointed tone.