Cenerea, 3rd planet from the star Letria, Regalius,

The Confederation, Central Region, The Capitol City,

Forty-Four Cenerean Years Ago

Wendy was not ready for the pomp and circumstance involved in a full Confederation dinner. The sparkling, silver gown she was issued fit her perfectly. She also received a complete makeover from a handful of fussy beauticians and stylists that successfully brought her to the current, overly formal appearance that Lieutenant Mitchell seemed to appreciate. She could easily gauge this appreciation by the look he gave her when he knocked at the door of her assigned apartment ready to pick her up for the evening affair. 

Wendy snickered. She would have never believed the man had a stuttering problem.

Gil arrived driving an expensive, silver transport. He was very proud of the machine, Wendy could tell, observing the man's face as he pointed out its many features. Wendy found herself impressed as well; although, it was not as much with the vehicle as with the way Gil filled out his white formal dress uniform. An elegant outfit loaded with shiny medals and other awards. Regardless of their flashy brilliance, Wendy still thought they were nothing in comparison to his spectacular green eyes.

The drive to the dinner was pleasant, Gil telling Wendy a little bit about him, but not too much and Wendy reciprocating with minute details of her as well. They both knew the game when it came to work and secrets.

The scientist understood the transport was in no way any type of aerialcraft and they were not traveling all that fast, nevertheless, Wendy felt her heart racing and what revved her engine was not the vehicle, but the operator. Diverting her attention from her escort for the moment, Wendy realized this trip marked her first time visiting the Confederation of Regions' Capitol City. She wondered if there would be time after this whole dinner thing was over to visit any of the sights here. 

As the transport sped along the Central Region Capitol's elevated highway system, Wendy stared out of the transport's passenger window, admiring the massive marble Confederation administrative buildings interspersed with dozens of tall corporate skyscrapers, their alumiglass windows reflecting the light of the afternoon Letria. The scientist thought about the importance of the place and how her inventions kept the beautiful city and her people from harm.

After several kilometers, Gil pulled off the highway, heading east down a two-lane road lined with trees. Wendy caught intermittent images of a well-lit expansive mansion on a hill in the distance. She assumed the building was probably their destination. The transport slowed as it reached a heavily armored security gate.

Wendy produced her Military issued identification badge and presented it to the guard. Gil did the same and the guard waved them through post haste.

"Wow. Look at the size of this place!" Wendy blurted when they reached the entrance of the elegant palatial estate.

Gil grinned.

The scientist did not see the expression. She was far too enamored with the beauty of it all, imagining what it would be like to live here. Gil drove up the hill and around a circular brick driveway stopping at the base of the estate's gargantuan home that reminded Wendy of a castle. It seemed there was no end to the place.

A formally attired soldier lifted the door for Gil and then walked around to assist Wendy out of the vehicle.

Although she knew she was fully capable of opening the thing on her own, she let the man lift the door for her. He presented her with an open hand. "What the hell, play the part, Wendy," she told herself and accepted the gesture. "Thank you."

The soldier nodded.

A valet drove Gil's sporty transport away as he and Wendy began the hike up the seemingly never-ending stairs leading to two massive carved wooden doors guarded by more formally dressed Military personnel. One of these soldiers waved a security wand over Wendy's dress and another verified their ID's again. Finally, with all of the security precautions now out of the way, the couple walked between a row of large marble columns leading to one more set of doors guarded by a singular, stone-faced soldier.

As the pair approached, the lieutenant removed his dress cap and tucked it under his arm. He clicked his heels together and bowed, presenting his formal invitation to what was to be the final human obstacle of the evening they would have to deal with. The guard turned and led them toward the doors, which swung open as the trio approached.

The man snapped to attention and lifted Gil's invitation in front of him to read the card aloud, "May I present our main guest of honor this evening, Ms. Wendy Powell, Lead Weapons Developer Central Region Lab and her escort Lieutenant Gil Mitchell of the 8th Combat Division, Central Region Military Defense Air Corps!"

The introduction startled Wendy when the Military announcer shouted it. She even placed her hand on her chest to check for signs of a heart attack.

Several imaging devices flashed from varying places around the room as they entered, Wendy assuming the owners were probably with the information media circuits. She felt herself beginning to blush as the crowd of high-society men and women grew silent, placing their gaze upon her and her escort. The finely dressed assembly began clapping as the two entered the room even further with Gil aiming Wendy toward the massive elegant dining table at its center. She tried ignoring the warm feeling of her face hoping it might look like makeup, but regardless of appearance, all she could do was just dismiss the sensation because she was too nervous to consciously address it.

Wendy felt so out of her element, only finding strength in the knowledge she was guided by Gil who it seemed was no stranger to these sorts of events. "Just follow my lead," he leaned in and whispered to her as they snaked their way through the assembly. Wendy soon realized it was going to be a very long walk through the adoring faces before she made it to her seat near the head of the largest table.

Wendy slowed upon hearing a more familiar, less refined and earthier sound rising above the rest of the applause. It appeared to be emanating from the rear corner of the room. She looked around through the well-dressed mob to find the smiles of several uniformed men and women who seemed to be honored guests as well, but sitting at another table off to themselves. They appeared to be disabled soldiers. Wendy felt these heroes should garner more praise than she. These grunts were the men and women she was used to working with. The real force behind the Confederation Military's might. The boots on the ground, as it were. So, she guided Gil over toward their direction wishing to thank them for their service.

One of the wounded veterans seated in a motorized chair grabbed her free hand as she walked up to the table. Wendy felt Gil start to tense but indicated for him to stand down as she noted the tears in the man's eyes.

"Ma'am. My wife and children wanted me to thank you if'n I got the chance. Every one of us here at this table want to thank you." All of the wounded soldiers were nodding in agreement.

"Oooo Rah!" they shouted in unison.

Wendy released Gil's arm and knelt down to face the soldier on his level, her silvery flowing dress spreading out around her like a pretty glistening pond. "For what soldier?" she asked softly. She noticed the hall had become very quiet in an effort to listen to their exchange.

"To thank you for your work. Your invention, ma'am. My Sassy-Suit. I call it 'Asshat'. Cuz it covered this grunt's ass...erm, it saved my rear Sorry..."

"It's okay, soldier. I can hold my fuckin' own ya hear me?" Wendy gave the table a big wide smile.

The soldiers laughed and nodded their heads.

"Roger that!"

"Well, ma'am, all kiddin' aside I owe you my life. Them rebels would have killed me if it weren't..." his voice trailed off as he lowered his face trying to regain his composure.

Wendy did not know what to say as she felt she was about to cry herself. She placed her hands on the young man's face and lifted it up so she could look into his eyes. "No...thank you, soldier." She flinched as she heard the room erupt into applause. As she stood and began her trip across the room once more she observed the people's faces as she passed, there appeared to be no dry eye in the room.

Finally, she arrived. "Wendy Powell", said a card on the luxurious dining table.

"Here we are, ma'am." Gil said in perfect courteous fashion as he pulled out Wendy's seat and gently slid her and it in proper alignment with the table; very mindful of her dress.

Wendy watched nervously as he released her chair back. She was hoping Gil would be sitting next to her. "Oh no..." she thought, "Where is he going?"

The Lieutenant made his way around the table acknowledging several different smiling Military personnel he was evidently familiar with, shook a few hands, some small talk, and finally arrived at his apparently assigned seat located in exacting parallel to hers across the table. He stiffly sat down and began glancing around the room. When it seemed the situation was suitably safe, the handsome officer returned his gaze to her. Gil shot Wendy a reassuring smile through the candle lit barrier created by some gaudy but very expensive candelabras.

As she sat glancing around the table at the other guests, the reality of everything hit Wendy. She nervously realized she was actually attending an event very few in her line of work could even dream of experiencing, yet here she was its guest of honor. The idea she was about to dine with the Chancellor and the Military General-At-Arms was something she never would have believed the previous morning when the buzzer on the door of her muddy camp hovel was pressed by the dashing Lieutenant Mitchell.

The sounds of Military horns and drums blasted through the large hall startling the young scientist and arresting her thoughts. Gil and any of the other uniformed Military personnel leapt from their seats and assumed full attention. Wendy looked around nervously, finally deciding to stand, because she did not really know if she had to or not. As she stood, she could see the sea of people part like tall grass parting in the wake of a predator stalking its prey.  This activity progressed until finally it broke at the head of the table next to her. Gil immediately lifted his hand and arm into a rigid 45 ° salute. Wendy had no doubt that the Confederation's General-At-Arms, Tan Pha'Li had arrived.

The General was an older graying man with a large belly. Wendy noted he was a bit shorter than average. Nevertheless, this did not seem to trouble the obscenely decorated Military official. The Confederation's highest ranking officer snapped his hand to his eyebrow, "At ease all Regional Defense personnel! Now, ladies and gentlemen of the Confederation, officers of Defense, and honorable Regional officials, please let me introduce to you, the esteemed, honorable Chancellor to Government, Connor Santum!"

The room erupted into applause, dwarfing the noise levels Wendy experienced when she and Gil entered the hall. She began smiling, nodding at her neighbors in acknowledgement, and lightly clapping like the other ladies around the table; trying to maintain a more formal appearance that suited her dress. Once more, the crowd divided, however this time, they dispersed toward the many long dining tables placed in parallel around the hall.

Then he appeared, a master political actor emerging from a parting curtain of adoring humanity ready to perform for them. He took a bow as he reached his seat.

Wendy heard the large doors of the halls shut with a loud boom sealing them all off from the outside world.

"Thank you! Thank you, all! Welcome my honored guests. My family if you will. Welcome to this wonderful fellowship of the one true Homeland. Please, take your seats, everyone."

The room noisily sat down in their assigned places, including Wendy and Gil. Their gaze fixed upon the stately figure of Connor Santum standing in the middle of the room like an ancient royal statue.

"Tonight, my friends, I want to ask you a few very important and timely questions." The Chancellor narrowed his eyes, raising his fist in front of his face. "How do we crush this threat killing our citizens?" He brought the clinched hand down forcefully planting it into the palm of the other with a smack and looked around the room. "How do we wrestle humanity out from under this tyrannical Sub-Region dead weight? How do we create a golden age of opportunity for our urbanized citizens?" The well-groomed politician slowly turned with his hands facing outward as if waiting for an answer. "Together!" he shouted loudly throwing his hands in the air.

The room erupted into applause and the audience of aristocrats stood once more in joyous approval.

"Thank you!" The leader of the Confederation of Regions, adorned in his white and silver formal political attire, stood with arms outstretched as if waiting for the world to rush in and hug him. "Here we are...the future. In this room right now, are the hands, the minds, and the energy that will create our golden Homeland, a beautiful tomorrow of equality for all, opportunity for all, and nourishment for all. However, this is only a small part of why we are here, tonight. There are individuals in our urban family that are making a difference right now; those in the Homeland that give of themselves daily in service to their Regions to maintain the well-being of their brothers and sisters. Tonight, we wish to honor those who everyday give it their all and remember those who have already given everything so that we might live. Let us hail our wonderful Confederation Defense Forces! We thank you, from the bottom of our hearts!" The Chancellor bowed his head reverently at the table in the back of the room.

Every soul in the hall shouted in unison, "For the good of the Homeland!" and began applauding the veterans. The soldiers that Wendy met earlier waved at the crowd of adoring leaders and superiors and smiled. Some smiled through the pain of their wounds. Some smiled through the pain of their loss. However, tonight, at least, they felt the pain was for something.

"Thank you, brothers and sisters for your sacrifices. Thank you! Now, without any further ado, let me present another true patriot of our dear Homeland. Someone that's very special to me. She is the daughter of my late friend, the esteemed scientist Gene Powell."

Wendy furrowed her eyebrows. "What the hell is this guy talking about? Damned if he isn't the quintessential politician in every sense of the word."

"...she's a vision of beauty. An extraordinary scientist in her own right and a true leader of Society."

"Huh? I have never even met him but he's standing there talking about my dad and me like we have picnics together, sheesh."

"...using her genius for all of us in order to usher in the Golden Age of the One True Homeland! The wonderful Ms. Wendy Powell!!!"

Wendy felt a wave of fear wash over her as she stood and waved nervously to everyone. Now, she really had no idea what was going on. She thought she was just going to have dinner with the man, not have a spotlight poured over her. The confused young woman glanced over at Gil who was smiling and clapping as vigorously as the rest of the crowd. She returned her gaze to the toothy white grin of the politician less than a meter away. "Okay, what's going on?" she thought.

Connor raised his hands once more, indicating to the gathering to quiet down. He bent over slightly, acquired a glass of champagne from the table, and held it like a scepter in front of him.

"Ms. Powell, everyone in this room knows the work you do defending us against the rebels that actively seek to destroy the progress in our technologically advanced cities. Your inventions protect us even as we speak from the hateful terrorist scum that we watch nightly on our information monitors as they try to kill our brave soldiers. They wrap themselves in this false idea of freedom and deny the truth of what we here know to be the future best suited for man. A future of science and technology and this is why you are here. We raise our glasses in your honor!"

The hall shouted, "Hear! Hear!" and collectively took a drink from their glasses.

"Okay?" Wendy was still very confused and trying desperately to keep it off her face.

"I, Connor Santum, your humble brother in the family of civilized man, implore, no, I beg of you...Please Ms. Wendy Powell..." the Chancellor set the crystal glass down, took her hand between his two, and looked about the room, playing the crowd. "...lead us into this wonderful golden future. Partner with us, sister. Accept my offer and assume your role as Confederation Military Defense Scientist General," he said as he placed her father's departmental insignia in her hand.

"What?" Wendy inhaled and began to cry. She lifted her free hand to her mouth, glancing around at the jubilant faces. That was the post her father held when he died and the position she had been working toward for the past four years. "Yes, Chancellor...Yes! I accept." Wendy  shook the man's hand and quickly sat down in tears clutching the badge to her chest.

Once again, the group of Military and Political leaders and their companions gave Wendy one more roaring standing ovation.

"People of the Homeland. If we don't act soon, these filthy mongrels will eventually kill us all, the civilized family of man. They don't want what we have, they want to destroy it. They descend from the mountains and rain their terror down upon our united peoples. They bring their filthy immorality and disease into our midst in an attempt to corrupt our youth with loose ideas of freedom and individuality."

"Booooo!" shouted the throngs of adoring guests.

"This is the time for the Golden Age, The Homeland, and with science on our side...with Wendy Powell, Scientist General leading this charge we might stand a chance. This is our opportunity to unite the Confederation of Regions against the unclean in the Subs and the warmongers in the Lavidius Collective! Let us eat and celebrate...TO THE FUTURE!!!"

"YAAAYYY!!!" The crowd behaved as if they were at a sports arena and their favorite team just scored.

Wendy, however, did not care. She sat in her chair overjoyed with the realization she had just received everything she had been working toward from the most powerful, albeit nutty man in the Regions and tonight she wanted to celebrate.

Wendy did note over dinner that Connor was actually quite charming when he was not pontificating about the people on the outer edges of Regalius. She still wondered why he thought every Sub was evil when they weren't. The scientist was speaking from experience, especially after spending lots of time in these places and meeting many of them in her travels. In fact, the majority of her defense hardware beta tests were done in those same Sub-Regions. Wendy was just not sure what all of the hateful shit Connor spewed really meant, other than to work this crowd of uninformed city dwellers. The one's fighting on the information monitors were evidently a few crazies coming out of the woods.

Regardless, this was why Wendy always hated politics, because politicians were mostly liars and fakes, and she strove to be anything but.What she heard tonight was a perfect example. It seemed they always had to have some sort of enemy to give the people someone to hate instead of focusing on them while they gave themselves more power. Regardless, she would build the Confederation's weapons as requested, even if they didn't really need them. It was what her father was doing and she was going to do it as well. It was, in fact,what she had always wanted after he had passed...to follow in his footsteps. 

"So, Ms. Powell..." Connor said examining the cleanliness of his utensil.

"Yes sir?" the scientist responded, turning her attention to the Chancellor.

"When this little party is over...when you sit in your father's office and in his chair, General Pha'Li and I are going to expect some very large things out of you, no different than what was expected out of Gene. You need to know I usually do not speak that highly of other people unless I truly believe it, because, if they fail, well, that reflects on my judgment. I do not like to be wrong. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do, completely. I have been working for four years for this opportunity. I won't let you down, sir." Wendy said, feeling a little threatened.

"I know...and I was not joking about you leading us, General Powell. Your advancements have already turned the tide in dealing with the rebel threat. I am really excited to see what you can do with the full power and resources of the Confederation Coalition's R and D department at your command."

"I am more excited than you know, Mr. Chancellor."

"Call me Connor, because I have a feeling we are going to get to know each other rather well in the coming months."

"Very well, Connor. Thank you for the dinner and your lovely speech."  She winced. "Did you just say that, suck up?" Wendy wanted to punch herself. She was now just as bad as he was, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. "Fuck," she thought. The newly christened Scientist General decided to divert her attention from a sudden wave of self-induced nausea and looked over at Gil. He was paying especially close attention to the conversation between her and Connor. He quickly took a bite of food and started staring at the ceiling when she turned to look at him.

"Hmmm, wonder what that is all about?" she thought.

"Ms. Powell?"

"Yes, sorry. Call me Wendy...Connor" she smiled, returning her attention to the Chancellor.

"Yes, I apologize...Wendy. So, how do you like your escort for the evening? I handpicked Lieutenant Mitchell for you. I see you can't keep your eyes off him. I have known that young man for quite some time and I thought you two would make an excellent 'power' couple. We can't have the new hero of the Homeland appearing to be some sort of loner, can we?"

"I guess not..." she replied sheepishly.

"You know the press is going to try to pair you up once they get it in their heads you two should be a couple. This is actually how my wife and I were put together. She's an Arcturan. But, if you ask her, she planned the whole thing out." Connor smiled and looked around at the other occupants of the table each vying for the Chancellor's eye contact. He nodded a few times and smiled pleasantly.

"It's a little early for all of that, Chancellor. I have only known him less than two days. Anyways, you say your wife is Arcturan? Royalty, huh? Wow."

Connor laughed. "Yes, I am slave to the Clan of Arcturis. Well, that is what the rumors say, but trust me, it's the other way around in my household. My wife is one of the lesser sisters in the hierarchy. Their ridiculous ranking system means nothing to her anymore since she married me and she'll quickly tell you that, too. Either way, I can definitely assure you she is 100% Arcturan, regardless of her place in her family. That woman is definitely great in bed, well, more like fantastic. Still, even with all her many skills, I occasionally need a diversion from perfection."

Connor patted her hand and smiled. "Everyone needs a change from the ordinary, you know?" he winked. "In my experience, two days is a fairly long time. It's a lot longer than I usually get when I have any special guests.  Seriously General, you really should take another day for yourself. You've earned it. Tell them I ordered you to. Your team won't miss you for one more day," He lifted her hand produced a devilish smile and kissed it. "Enjoy your dinner and your date, Ms. Powell. Especially your date." the Chancellor raised his glass to Gil bearing a smile, nodded, and then turned away to speak with General Pha'Li.

"Oh...I see. Thank you, Chancellor." Wendy looked away blushing and returned to playing with her food a bit more. A Waiter walked by with a fancy bottle of wine and some glasses. He noticed she looked his way.

"Care for some wine, madame?"

"Yes. Give me the bottle."

...

Gil had to help Wendy into his transport. As he removed her arms from around his neck she whispered, "...don't let me go."

"Huh? Okay. Wendy. Stop. Put your legs in the transport. Thank you. Let...me...get...your...dress in the vehicle. There we are." Gil walked around the transport, sat, and lowered the door. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"Sorry. I drink I'm thunk. I mean I think I'm drunk. Are you going to try to take advantage of me, Gil?" Wendy laid her head against the window and exhaled. She put a finger to the alumiglass surface and started sloppily writing Gil's name into the foggy cloud she made on it.

"What? No! You really are a lightweight, Ms. Powell. You didn't even finish the bottle." Gil chuckled as he drove down the dark road back to the highway.

Wendy quickly sat up and flashed a goofy smile. "Oh, goody did you bring it with us? You should try it. It was...ummm, it was delish..."

"I trust you."

"Hey, Gil, why is the transport spinning? Uh, oh. I think I am going to be sick."

"OH NO! No you are NOT, Wendy Powell! Hang on."

Gil quickly pulled the fancy transport over, hopped out, and managed to lift the door just in time to catch Wendy's vomit on his polished white shoes. "Oh, seriously, Wendy? It took me two hours to shine those. Damn."

"I'm sorry, Gil. You should spank me..." Wendy passed out.

...

Wendy's view from her temporary apartment was wonderful, once she figured out how to darken the windows and control the bright Letrian light pouring in. She could see the whole city as she stood freshly showered pressing her nose to the alumiglass window.  She had a towel wrapped around her body and one around her head. She took a sip from her herbal tea that was supposed to help with headaches and memory, but what she had was more nuclear.

She was hoping the memory part would kick in pretty quick. She wasn't sure how she got here to her apartment. She imagined Gil brought her in and it seemed nothing had happened between them or anyone else for that matter. Wendy had woke up, face down, head hanging off the bed over a garbage pail, in her vomit scented dress; honor still somewhat intact. "Yeah, no one would want to sleep with you in that state, honey," she thought.

Someone knocked at her door. "Yes?"

"Oh good, you are still alive."

"Wendy Powell can't die. I have this bodyguard guy named Gil who's supposed to protect me from evil!" she shouted.

"Ha ha, let me in."

Wendy opened the door and skipped off toward the bathroom. 

Gil attempted to ignore her towel clad rear as it happily bounced away. He failed.

"Hey, do you want to go for a guided tour around the city a bit today, Wendy? I'm the tour guide," he said, attempting to tone down the excitement in his voice. It was one more outward example of his growing attraction to the young woman.

"Are you kidding?" Wendy leaned out of the bathroom doorway, hair wet, toothbrush in mouth. "I would loooove to."

"Well, there are a couple restaurants that serve some really nice Regional food and there's the museum..."

"Gil Mitchell, are you asking me out on a date?"

"If you want to call it that...yeah, I suppose so. I mean I do have to 'protect' you and all and it is such a nice day." The lieutenant closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose waiting for her answer.

"Then it's a date. Mr. Protector of Wendy," she said from around the corner.

"Yes!" he whispered with a quick fist pump.

The pair spent the day touring the Capitol, with Wendy wishing she had more time to see it all.

"You know Gil, I would love it if I had a few more days off."

"Me, too. Hey..."

"What?"

"How much longer is your assignment back at that mudhole?"

"Not much longer. Why?"

"Because I really want to see you again, Wendy Powell, and take you on a real date."

"I thought this was a real date," she said and smiled.

"Okay, I will take you on another date when you get back from defending the Homeland."