He moved quickly from window to window and closed the privacy curtains, darkening the room into a deep gloom.  While he did so, LorAnna stole a look around, and discovered she was in some kind of a library or study.  Books, actual books printed on paper, lined the wooden shelves behind wood-framed glass doors.  A large worktable of gleaming wood stood under one window, a matching chair pulled up to it.  The chair had a cushion on it, a well-worn one that bore a dent that showed someone sat in that one chair, over all the others in the room, and had done so for a long time.  The gleaming wood floor with its scattered woven rugs, the paintings on the walls not covered by bookshelves, windows and carvings, all indicated a much loved and well-used room.  A nest, a place of respite.  And a room in the home of someone very wealthy.

The books and the old, exquisite, wood furniture alone were worth a not-so-small fortune.  And if what she observed on the way to this room was any indication, this was a large stone house, at least three stories, and apparently all for a single family.  Unheard of on her planet, except among those who had family wealth measured in generations.  Even the newly wealthy had difficulty obtaining the rare old homes, which were usually continuously occupied by the descendants of those who had built them almost a millennia ago.  All this LorAnna took in while Joss closed the window covers and lit a couple of lamps.

“Here,” he said and gestured to a carved bench that faced a hearth.  What LorAnna hadn’t noticed was a cabinet built into the wall and hidden by intricate carving, above the stone hearth.  Joss opened it to expose the viewscreen within.  He then handed her the control pod.

“Do you recognize this piece of equipment?”

LorAnna looked at him in surprise.  What game was he playing?  She raised an eyebrow at him, about to toss down the pod at his childish dramatics.

“I’m not playing, LorAnna.  Just tell me—do you recognize this piece of equipment?  Is it familiar to you?  Would you be able to tell if it wasn’t what it was supposed to be?”

Studying him for a long moment, she relented.

“Okay, I’ll bite.  It’s a viewscreen.  Yes, I’m familiar with it—as would anyone be who was born in the last two millenia.  It’s a device used to transmit data—news, weather, entertainment, flight conditions, and so forth.  As to whether I could tell if it—what?  Was a weapon disguised as a viewscreen?  Hell, I don’t know, Lerios.  Does it work?”

“You tell me.  Go ahead, try it.  It’s an old model, nothing complicated.  Pull up some entertainment.”

Frowning at him, she did as he asked.  He was right.  It was an older, uncomplicated, no-frills model of the type that could be found in every household, down to the lowest-paid laborer.  She activated the control pod and selected a frequency at random.  Immediately the room was filled with the quick tempo and simple scales of a children’s show, all bright colors and quick movement to keep those with short attention spans engaged.

“Try some other selections.  Satisfy yourself that it isn’t an illusion.”

“That it really is an old family viewscreen?” she asked dryly.

“It’s important, LorAnna.” Joss said quietly.

“Okay,” she sighed and cycled through a number of offerings.  “Okay, I’m as certain as I can be that this really is a basic viewscreen with the usual public offerings.”

“Okay, good.  Give us a news program, then.”

LorAnna looked at him sharply, but did as he requested.  She chose the global news and information program, the one she usually watched.  It was propagandized by the High Rule, of course, but if you knew that going in, you could sometimes piece together what was really going on.  Selection made, she looked at him questioningly.  Now what?

“Now we watch some screen.  You hungry?  Need something to drink?”

“No.  Yes.  Uh, water would be good.  What in the name of the Gods and Goddess are we doing?  Are you losing your mind?”  It occurred to her a moment later that it probably wasn’t a good question to ask if he really was losing his mind.  But she could not understand what he was doing to her or with her.  “And where are we, anyway?  Whose house is this and do the owners know you’re here?  What’s going to happen if they come back and we’re in here watching screen—you a Rule Intelligence officer and me an officer of the Cause.”

“I like that,” he said with a soft, ironic smile, “how you say “the Cause” and make it sound like it’s a proper noun, like it’s the name of an actual thing.”

For a moment LorAnna thought she saw a shadow in those remarkable eyes, longing, or perhaps sadness, and then it was gone, leaving only the smile.  Gods’ teeth he was gorgeous.  And how she had missed him!  It had taken her a long, long time to stop grieving for his traitorous ass.  And now, here she was sitting with him in someone’s study, pretending to watch screen like they were normal people instead of captor and captive, predator and prey.  And as angry and as hurt as she had been when he left, Goddess and Gods help her, her heart still beat for the bloody bastard and she didn’t know what to do about it.  Except to keep him the hell away from her, if she could.  So she ground her teeth and snapped at him.

“It is an actual thing, as well you know it, Lerios, you bloody bastard.  In fact, you helped make it an actual thing.  What the hell happened to you?  Do you—”

“Hup!  Hold the thought.  Top of the hour news.  You really need to watch this.  Remember, you chose.”  He relieved her of the pod to increase the volume, then tossed it back to her.  He pulled an ottoman over next to her chair and assumed a watching posture, focused and attentive.

LorAnna was confused and more than a little pissed off at all the shenanigans, about to blast him verbally when the newsreader’s voice snagged her attention with the one thing she least expected.

“Today in Capital City in the Western Lands, the Governor’s birthday celebration got underway, opened by his loyal followers.  A military parade began the festivities, followed by the Governor’s inspection of the troops, and an aerial display of the High Rule’s best fighter pilots.  Generals Octos Lomar and Vius Dar accompanied the Governor on today’s rounds…”

LorAnna, wide-eyed, looked at Joss.  Still, it was no big thing to fly to the Western Lands in a mere hour.

Joss glanced at her expression and said, “Wait.  And watch.”

So she did.

“…Governor’s birthday ball last evening was attended by all of the most famous and the most important figures in the land.  It was rumored that the Governor had over six hundred deer hunted for the occasion, as well as several hundred boar and one thousand tons of other delicacies.  Music was performed by the Global Orchestra, conducted by…”

As LorAnna watched, the news program replayed the recorded festivities.  The cream of High Rule society and military hierarchy, decked out in their opulent finery, dancing the ancient dignified dances of their distant Homeworld, that allowed the dancers to display themselves and their riches to best advantage.  And right there, in a high percentage of the recorded images, was Vius Dar.  Vius Dar standing next to the Governor, Vius Dar eating, Vius Dar dancing, Vius Dar talking, flirting, making the rounds, but never far from the illustrious Governor’s side.  And clearly, clearly, visibly and otherwise, in the Western Lands, both last night and today.

Sickened and faint with what she had nearly done, she bent forward to put her head between her knees.  She had nearly assassinated one of the most beloved and important members of the Rebellion.  She worked on controlling her breathing, trying to stop herself from throwing up or fainting.  Or both.  A deep, shuddering moan escaped her throat.  LorAnna felt Joss’ large, very warm hand come to rest on the back of her neck briefly, then rub down and over her shoulders.  It felt remarkably comforting, and much too familiar.

Under some better control a few moments later, LorAnna pulled slowly away from his touch and sat up.

“Why are you telling me this?  Why didn’t you just let me kill Minister Yunlo?  It seems to me that would have been quite a coup for the High Rule’s counter-insurgency efforts.  Bloody hell, it appears it was part of their plan.”

“Perhaps.  But it wasn’t a part of my plan.”

“Since when is an officer of the High Rule permitted to make his own plans?  You didn’t answer my question, Lerios.”

“No, I didn’t, LorAnna.  Come on, time to go.”