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Otherwise, everything else inside was practically invisible to the untrained eye – the central security and communications tower, the multiple disguised guardstations, the discreet plain-robed guards patrolling the zone, the popup autoturrets embedded in the ground everywhere.

All of them looked relatively normal. Or at least, they were disguised to look normal. Functionally, they were all close to military-grade.

Inside the security tower, technicians and officers wearing their stark Imperial uniforms were seated at various terminals and stations. At the very center was a cylindrical pedestal roughly 5 meters in diameter, and waist-high. On top of it was a TacMap of the Red Zone they were overseeing.

Walking around it was a uniformed officer whose red eyes belied his working hours and his experience. Well, to some degree at least.

“Shieldmaster,” said one of the technicians, “we’ve got a gondola incoming. Four person, privacy filtered. Armored. Currently waiting at the gates.”

“Hail and request auth codes,” replied the Shieldmaster.

The tech tapped a number of controls on his terminal, waited a few moments, then spoke again.

.....

“Just received,” he said. “Level 2, Designation SR.”

The Shieldmaster groaned slightly when he heard the designation.

“SR you say?” he replied. “Well that’s just gods-damned great, isn’t it? Let them in, and have a ground team give them a warm welcome. Offer VIP escort, otherwise give space. Lots of it.”

The sleek gondola was given the green light, which allowed it to swoop into the streets past the gate. Its black tinted dome reflected its surroundings back at them, as though it was telling the Zone that it actually wasn’t there.

It wove through the dark, quiet streets until it reached a lot, where it set itself down among a number of other sleek armored gondolas.

Once settled, the gondola opened up and two armored Drogar hopped out. They were followed by two more Drogar in black robes with their hoods up. One of them was clearly older, and he had precious metals hanging from the cords that wrapped around his robe.

Everyone else was rather plain and unadorned. Even their beltknives and sidearms were free of frivolity.

The two enrobed Drogar were quickly met with one of the Zone’s security teams, who were also in relatively plain outfits. Though looking up close, it was clear that they wore protective armor underneath.

They greeted each other, then the security team provided a foot escort for their VIP. Not that it was even close to necessary, but some traditions were hard to let go. Sometimes, some people absolutely needed to feel special or prized or important.

This was just one of the many ways.

The security detail led the two black-robed Drogar to their destination – a simple pale grey building with a reinforced red door. Armored drones with heavy guns hovered in the shadows above the door, while a simple scanning drone hovered in front.

The old Drogar stepped forward, and was quickly scanned from head to toe. The scanning drone hovered off to the side as the red door unlocked with a loud CLACK, then swung open. The two enrobed Drogar stepped in and left their Zone security detail out in the street.

Inside, the two were met with a greeter and a guard, both behind a tall desk. The room was small, just enough to hold a handful of people. But the design was rather sleek and dignified. As though there was a history in the walls.

The older Drogar fished into his robes and produced a polished copper coin at the greeter. She smiled in response, and waved him towards the wall next to her.

It quietly slid open into a long hallway and allowed the two to proceed further inside. All along the length of the hallway were a number of large private rooms on both sides. Although the stout double doors looked stately and regal, it was easily apparent that they were heavily reinforced.

Behind one of the sets of double doors, multiple Drogar lounged in chairs as they indulged in various intoxicants and vices. In just one corner of this large room, seven of the Drogar sat with their lounge chairs in a circle around a low table.

The table itself displayed a sampling of various alcohols, plants, liquids, pills, and powders. Each of which were highly potent intoxicants in their own special way. Some were stimulants, others hallucinogens. Some were legal, others not.

And though all of the Drogar in the room indulged themselves, it was never to oblivion. Rather, this was simply where they commiserated and conversed. A place where different ideas and arguments and discourses could intermingle and create new ideas and arguments and discourses.

At least, that was what many hoped it would accomplish. It was the entire philosophy behind the entire Zone – an exchange of ideas. Sometimes, the reality didn’t match in the slightest.

“Did you hear,” Savoth told the others in the circle, “Toreth and his people are going to try for yet another vote! What a damned fool. He’s wasting all his capital pushing through his agenda.”

“And failing,” said Konleth.

He chuckled lightly as he spoke. He found Toreth beyond pathetic by this point. All the attempts thus far – half a dozen now – had completely failed. Not by much, but failure was failure regardless.

“It’s as though he’s unable to learn,” he continued. “He can’t beat us. He can never beat us. He still believes in the power of the vote. How quaint.”

“That’s the problem with his kind,” said Savoth. “They think their idiotic ideas are actually worth a damn in the long run. They don’t understand that the Empire actually runs on Coin.”

“Eventually the Coin runs out,” said an angry voice.

The Senators in the lounge circle perked their heads up and looked at who had said such blasphemous words. A couple were annoyed by the interruption, but their expressions changed the moment they saw who it was.

Savoth was the first to break the silence.

“Machinefather Gravoss,” he said, “you know this is a Senate-only clubhouse, right? I don’t think-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Gravoss interrupted him.

“I don’t care what you think,” he said. “I’m a Drogar High Patron with Specialized Rights. I can go wherever I damn well please.”

Gravoss walked over to the lounge next to Konleth, looked at the Senator who was using it, and stared at him with blades in his eyes.

“Move,” he said.

The Senator did so without delay, and Gravoss took his seat with a grunt.

The black-robed bodyguard who had accompanied him the entire way stepped backwards into a shadow and all but disappeared. But kept his eyes on everyone and everything around Gravoss.

“So then Gravoss,” said Konleth. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Gravoss didn’t answer him. Instead he heaped a small bump of a bright red crystalline powder onto a tiny brass serving spoon. He quickly sniffed it into a nostril before he wiped off the spoon and returned it to the rest of the paraphernalia.

He inhaled deeply and let it flow through his blood a little bit.

Then, he harrumphed.

“When I asked you to take care of that blasted ape duelist, I meant it,” he said. “And yet, weeks later, it’s still there. Why is that?”

“It isn’t the right time,” replied Konleth. “We’ve laid the groundwork, but there isn’t enough antipathy against humans yet. It’s growing, but much slower than we expected. People aren’t ready for an attack of that magnitude.”

“That’s right,” added Savoth. “There isn’t enough hate for the humans quite yet. Our polls are showing-”

Gravoss interrupted Savoth yet again, which greatly irritated the Senator.

“Who the hell cares about polls?” he said. “I’m talking about Coin here! Szereth is out-competing me, despite all my efforts, despite all my attempts. We need his pet ape erased before I’m restructured out of my own gods-damned Board!”

Gravoss slammed a fist on the table, which caused the items on it to rattle. Some of the jars tipped over, which one of the Senators put back upright.

Konleth darkened. Gravoss was far too influential a patron to anger. He was a great source of Coin for many of them, and an indispensable source of direction for legislation. But his demands were too high and too reckless.

“Please Gravoss, calm yourself,” said Konleth. “If we don’t handle the next few steps carefully, we could actually lose the next vote. I understand and empathize with your anger, truly. We will act soon, I promise. After the next vote – that’s when we’ll have the Senate fully in our grasp.”

Gravoss threw his hand up with exasperation. Clearly, this wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“It’s always next vote this, next vote that,” he said. “Weren’t you all just saying votes don’t mean a damned thing? Or was that all rhetoric? All part of the persona you’re playing?”

He looked at each of the other senators in lounges around him. His eyes were filled with deadly malice.

“Damn the vote,” he continued. “My Coin demands it. And if you can’t find me the solution I want, then I’ll have to find a different set of Senators who can.”

Both Konleth and Savoth looked at each other, then shook their heads in defeat. This was far from a winning play, and both only saw losses if they proceeded. But they had no choice now, not with the possibility of losing a High Patron’s direct support.

Perhaps they could salvage some of it for a later play.

With a voice that was cracked and dry, Savoth broke the silence.

“I’ll make the call,” he said. “I’ll-”

Savoth was interrupted a third time, which absolutely infuriated him. But he swallowed it down with as much grace as he could muster.

“Gods-damned right you will,” said Gravoss. “Put some of my investments to some real use for once. These little garbage protests you keep pressing are meaningless.”

“They’re all necessary,” said Konleth. “Every single time they’re out there and making trouble, they’re being seen. Being heard. Millions of people all over the Empire see what they’re doing, and slowly come around to our side of the aisle. I know you want things done right now, but the law is about slow change. Any faster, and it’d be a revolution.”

This softened Gravoss greatly. He knew that Konleth was right, deep down. If they were going to get the things they wanted, they needed to play the long game. Risks were minimized, and growth was ensured.

“We’ll still send Savoth’s people and fix your problem immediately,” continued Konleth. “Even though we’re martyring them a bit early, we’ve got other things planned down the line that could make up for the loss.”

Gravoss harrumphed as he picked a purplish flower from among the array of vices, and ate it whole.

“Fine,” he replied. “As long as you get it done quickly. My ledger has been thinning more and more, and that needs to stop.”