Ariadne's Thread

Ariadne's Thread :  the term used to describe the solving of a problem with multiple apparent means of proceeding - such as a physical maze, (eg: that of the minotaur)  a logic puzzle, or an ethical dilemma - through an exhaustive application of logic to all available routes. It is the particular method used that is able to follow completely through to trace steps or take point by point a series of found truths in a contingent, ordered search that reaches a desired end position. This process can take the form of a mental record, a physical marking, or even a philosophical debate; it is the process itself that assumes the name.

* * * * * *

The screen flickers into life with layers of green, gold and red text swimming across the surface. We see a torso, a green shirt and brown trousers over curved hips, midriff peeping through the two garments . A slightly muffled female voice, not in optimum mic range says "You're the one with the head for figures. Go over the dockets again and make sure we have all the paperwork. I'm not buying that a ton of our cargo grew legs and wandered off on it's own and you can tell that idiot warehouse clerk I said that!"

The female sits down and the lens of the camera refocuses. She has a small cup with a rich, brown transparent beverage which she sips, leaning back into the chair.

"Captain Seren Undercroft. Create New Log - Nyce - a "y" not an "i", tag it and connect it with Fall, Ariadne, Beit Dawla and Moonkill, Jade".

Time to update the diary on events here on Araxes....

A week or so ago, I attended a function held by Lady Ariadne Fall. The evening was successful, not to mention eventful but I'll come to that in a minute. People were talking and there were varying degrees of networking going on between various groups and interests.

The party proceeded at a steady pace and we were making merry. Lady Ariadne was her usual elegant self, she began polite conversation with everyone and the discussions were interesting, if not very informative. That was all about to change however....


The Lady Ariadne called the party to attention. She wanted to discuss documents that had arrived on her desk. The documents, she claimed, directly implicated the Myrmidons and their leader, Athena Prime of involvement in the death of former Beit Dawla delegate Jade Moonkill. An assassin's contract. I remember it clearly, the sharp intake of breath, the moment of silent shock where the people wondered what to say next.

Lady Ariadne is an incredibly intelligent, intuitive and some might say cunning woman. She knows how to shape her words and timing to achieve the most impact :  this was no exception. Of course, it sparked a heated debate. Accusations were thrown around and I won't deny I was involved in quite a bit of it. 


Of course, things are always much more complicated than they seem. Take the Lady Ariadne. She's a member of a ancient sect upon which layer upon layer of superstition and myth have been added to the point that no-one really knows what they're capable of or what their aims are. Some people call them witches, that they have special insight and powers of influence. They say they're good at making you see things their way although whether that's a mystical, psychic ability or if they're just skilled negotiators,  I can't say.


However, I will say that she speaks in a very delicate way that makes you hang on every word and that's a skill many people would yearn for.


I reported the incident to the Consulari in a private com-link discussion and brought the matter to the Beit Dawla. Looking back, I can't help but think I argued Lady Ariadne's case more strongly than I intended. I suggested that, if Lady Ariadne's evidence is correct, the Myrmidon Order's former Beit Dawla representative Skymet may be implicated in holding up the investigation. By all accounts, Skymet is an honourable and noble type - but you would have to think her loyalties lie with the Myrmidon Order above all else.


I know that it's entirely possible that the Laandsrat are trying to shift the blame to someone else to cover their own backs. Landing that haughty bunch in the slammer was a major achievement for the the late Ms Moonkill and they weren't best pleased. No, not pleased at all. 


She takes another sip from her drink, then another before draining the glass entirely.


I don't know if we'll ever get to the bottom of this mystery. Probably won't pull it off in my time on the Dawla council but I'm assured we have top minds working on it.  


In the meantime, I have my working relationship with the Saif Al-Azaadi to think about. Officially she's designated as my deputy but I don't think of her in that way. I don't think of myself as her superior and neither does she. We're working on an alliance for the mutual benefit of all free traders on Araxes.


Beyond that, there are rumours of new legalisation regarding traders, the issue of terraforming the planet (oft tried, I hear the Guild won't have it) and it isn't as though I don't have my own business to run. Elena has a brilliant mind but she lacks the edge to push deals through. 


We need to get the Persephone back up in the air. I've had her sitting on Araxes for far too long and the extra work for the rest of the fleet is unfair. Whilst I'm making a good sum of Solari from my role in government, I need to think about what will happen afterwards - I can't lose valuable contracts. Once Elena has located the missing stock, I've told her to depart 


Actually, I hear her coming now.  Okay, we'll leave this there.


Terminate log, encrypt save and transmit. 

Taking stock of the situation.

Seren sat back in her new chair within the council chambers. Her office was small and without natural light, save for the entrance where a beam of sunlight from the landing cut across the darkness. There was a faint cinnamon-esque tincture that she immediately recognised as the spice, Raqismanna. There were other odours, the smell of beeswax on the desk, a waft of floral scent she didn't recognise and others she put down to the age of the building. She surveyed the desk she'd just laid out. To her right, a small curiosity box she'd picked up many years ago and yet had never found use for and the holo-monitor she'd picked up on her last trip home. She'd had problems with it up at the Highport Station - Rettian and Araxian power couplets weren't immediately compatible and it had taken a while to complete the conversion process. Still, other than a few visual glitches it seemed to be working satisfactorily.

To the left, the computer terminal. She anticipated that she'd be spending a lot of time with the touchpad and had taken a few moments to get acquainted with it. A classic Rettian vase-lamp sat beyond that. It used a flammable substance to illuminate the room. Archaic in a time when various forms of electricity existed but she preferred the gentle glow to the harsh bright lighting systems she'd experienced elsewhere. Even on the Persephone, she usually had the lighting dimmed preferring the light from the stars and instrument panels to the unrelenting glare of artificial illumination. Although the room was dark, it wasn't something unusual and she found the lamp light comforting and intrinsically right.

She flicked the monitor on, danced her fingers across the terminal and pulled up the other Beit Dawla delegates. She didn't have access to their personnel files but she'd made a few notes along the way. A suspicion nagged at her. She knew all of them, bar the native Willard Deerhunter and as the natives were known to keep to themselves, that didn't surprise her. Of course, during the election process, it would have been natural to meet the fellow candidates but something still gnawed at the back of her mind.

Baronetess Jai Raghilda Lordhunter was someone Seren had encountered on and off for a few months. Initially she hadn't thought anything of the petite, unassuming but elegantly attired lady she first met  at the bar at the Water's End. They'd spoken casually and drank together. It was only in the coming months she learnt she was a Baronetess and Consulari of House Zenobia and the Zenobian Trade Consul. The last time she'd met Jai was on a personal invite to the Zenobian Consul in Al Raqis. It had been a warm autumnal evening, or at least was passed for autumn on Araxes, and Seren had enjoyed the stroll from the Persephone's berth, through the thinning crowd of Al Raqis to the Consul building. Jai had been watching her from the roof and beckoned her up. She proposed a trade of goods, Seren had agreed and they'd shuttled up to Jai's vast frigate in orbit. Once there, Jai had given her a thorough tour of the ship and what stock she had available.

It had been something of an epiphany. Seren had glanced from one side of the ship to another and estimated how many trips she'd have to make in the Persephone to carry the same load. The answer was more than she 'd care to admit. In fact, it had pricked Seren's ego more than she'd thought and when the Consulari had asked how big her hold was, she had exaggerated. She remembered Galewind's perplexed look the following day when the goods were delivered to the landing platform. They'd had to hire storage space in the city until such a time they could ferry the goods offworld. But something else had troubled her. Half way through the tour, the news had broken that the Highport voting terminal had been tampered with and there were suspicions of vote rigging.  It struck her as more than coincidental that she was with the Beit Dawla's appointed chairperson at the time it was announced. She'd considered the possibilities. One, it was pure coincidence. Two, was there a conspiracy to implicate her as the vote rigger? Plenty of people had seen her leave orbit with the Magistrate appointed leader of the Beit Dawla and the Laandsrat was still suffering from a credibility issue following their imprisonment. Three, someone was trying to get her off world when the story broke to protect her from the controversy. And four, her ego was getting the better of her again and she was jumping to all sorts of conclusions.

Dave Gaffer she knew as a competitor. Vulture Gear and Shipping had emerged recently onto the Araxian scene and had certainly made an impact securing contracts that Seren herself had been keen to get her hands on. Initially he'd had the backing of the CFTA (subsequently the SFTU) but internal strife had lead to them parting the ways. Waypoint X had closed down but there wasn't necessarily any correlation between the two events. In any case, Gaffer was a skilled negotiator with a pool of contacts across the Imperium and the Federation. During the Black Pox Blockade, he's managed to secure special dispensation to ferry medical goods to and from the planet, something she'd wished she'd done herself. Since then, she'd heard he'd taken on a position as professor at one of Starfleet's academies and was splitting his time between there and his trade business on Araxes. He led a busy life and could clearly juggle his responsibilities.

Arnold Gustav she'd met only recently. He ran the Kaden Personal Security company. They'd first met at the Reverend Mother's function at Nyce. Unexpectedly, he'd managed to circumvent Seren's distrust of the military. He spoke openly and at great length and displayed a tactful, thoughtful approach to defusing the Myrmidon's suspicions on their arrival. That was reassuring. He'd also suggested that Persephone Trading could make use of his services. She'd been unsure of how to proceed but suggested he look into the protection racket that was currently causing problems to a few of the traders on the 'Rock. Hopefully they might be able to get Gulgus off her back long enough to figure out what he was up to. Since then, they'd met a few times. Once in the Oasis Winds Tavern where she'd let slip she knew something she shouldn't. He hadn't liked that and began to interrogate her albeit in the nicest possible way. Most recently, he'd found her on the Persephone itself after she'd woken from a brief nap. He'd warned her that the information she knew could be potentially dangerous to her and although she was dubious, she had no reason to doubt his sincerity.

Captain Sisko she had known longer than anyone. They'd first met when he mistook her for a former colleague with whom she had a striking resemblance. Galewind didn't like him. When she'd ran scans, the computer had been unable to identify his DNA and that troubled her. Seren had put it down to a computer fault and hadn't thought any more about it. Since then, they'd met and chatted a while over the occasional drink at the former colony beyond the deep desert. They'd had the occasional falling out, the Narstrom Incident has shocked her but it had been a complex affair and Seren had softened her views since then. As it was, the colony had since been reclaimed by the sands and they hadn't spoken as much recently. Sisko had been having a rough time. The UFS had disavowed his organisation claiming they were impostors and terrorists. In the following months they'd run into problems with one of the many militias, the SSFS. When he entered into the running for the Beit Dawla she'd been surprised but she was satisfied he knew what he was doing. She didn't know much about the situation with the SSFS but she made up her mind she would ask him and find out what was going on.

That left the native, Willard Deerhunter. She didn't know anything about him at all but he was a native and suspected he might make a good ally. She would need to talk to him and discuss his position and see if there was a mutual benefit of them working together or if they were destined to argue across the chamber.

In truth, she still couldn't believe she'd won a position in the Beit Dawla. She knew that it was going to limit her trading capabilities. It was bad politics to spend most of your time offworld, she'd thought. For that reason, she'd given the every day running of the Persephone to Galewind who would fly the trade routes in her absence while allowing Seren to conduct business deals around her role with the government.

She flicked the monitor off and lay back in her chair listening to the hustle and bustle of the city outside. Without doubt this was a major change in her life and she wondered where it would lead. Then she remembered Ms. Moonkill and sighed, looking up to the ceiling before putting her feet up on the desk and opening the bottle of rum she carried in her belt.

"And the results are in..."

Several weeks ago...

"Free grey geese ina greenfield grazing".

Galewind tutted. "Say it again, this time properly."

Seren looked up at her companion, aghast. "I did say it properly. I've been saying it properly for the past ten minutes."

Galewind shook her head, seemed to take a deep breath and then said "Three grey geese in a green field grazing. Do you see the difference? Speak slowly and clearly. Emphasise both vowel and consonant. Pronounce each word separately."

"Free grey geese in a green field grazing", Seren looked up at the Mentis Adept who was shaking her head again, "Come on, Elena, is this really necessary?"

"Captain, it is entirely possible you may be elected to the Araxian House of State, the Beit Dawla. It is therefore imperative that you project the correct image. The rough language of a rum soaked space trader may be appealing to the electorate but you will be coming into regular contact with some of the most elite and prestigious figures in the universe. You may even meet the Sovereign Emperor himself. An air of sophistication will allow you to ingratiate yourself with the great and the powerful and stand you in good stead for the future. Now, repeat after me..."

"Free grey geese ina green field grazing...I know!"

* * * * * * *

Present Day

It had come as a shock. Seren had been sitting nervously in a make-shift bunk in the Persephone's hull, wedged in between a box of Fruity Oats and Prime Beef, waiting for the Al Raqis Raconteur to announce the final results of the poll. She didn't know if she was supposed to be somewhere special. In truth, she didn't even think she had a chance of winning a seat - a poor girl from the extremities of the Imperium without financial clout or political friends - the chances were unlikely at best.

And the preliminary election results are in....these are still to be confirmed by  a formal announcement, swearing oath and a satisfactory resolution of vote rigging allegations....


Seren closed her eyes and prepared for the disappointment. She was already trying to rationalise her defeat and get her mind back on more mundane things.

Arnold Gustav....


Disappointment. But still three more places to go.


Dave Gaffer.....


Maybe they were going in alphabetical order...anyway, that was two places gone. She felt a sickly feeling in her chest.


Seren Undercroft....


She thought she'd misheard. Or she'd imagined it. Then she realised that the sounds from the cockpit had stopped. Gale was no longer entering the shipment dockets into the computer. Instead she was coming down the ramp.

Willard Deerhunter and Captain Sisko complete the provisional line-up. They will receive one half vote each.

"Congratulations!", her companion exclaimed, smiling widely. By the time she'd finished the word, Seren had already bounced out of her bunk, grabbed her in a bear hug and was pumping her fist in the air.

After a few moments, Seren had regained some of her composure although she still emoted with her arms excitedly. "So what do we do now?"

Galewind was about to speak when a cacophony of sound began to echo throughout the hull, reminiscent of hundred birds suddenly singing at once. "The Communications Terminal, I believe?"

They bounded up the ramp to the cockpit and stood in front of the Comm Terminal. Lights flickered incessantly indicating that messages were arriving and the display screen showed line after line of message headers. Seren noticed a few familiar names or words. Galewind, saw all and began pointing them out.

"A communication of congratulations from the Heiland Haus on Rette....a dispatch of delight from the Salle de la Liberte on Nena, an epistle of elation from the Parliamentum de Aetate on Provincia..."

Seren looked at her companion wide eyed as she read out the messages from the planets of the Paradigm.

"You're the first citizen of the Seven Suns to sit in any sort of Imperial office in almost four generations. No doubt there will be some gnashing of teeth amongst some of the more prominent political families back home who will no doubt sing your praises in public while assessing how to bring you back down with a bump. So to speak."

"I'm not going to worry too much about what's going on back home right now" said Seren dismissively, "I think we have more than enough problems and potential enemies to worry about here. Anyway...I think this calls for a drink?" She reached into a crate of Blue Sun Beer and threw one over to her companion, "Cheers!"