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He clapped his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver couldn’t hold in his confusion any longer. His father hadn’t done that since Oliver had managed his first intergalactic corporate hostile takeover years and years ago.
“I don’t understand. Surely we’ve lost the contracts. There’s no way Southern Tava can support the infrastructure we need to extract the minerals we’re looking for.”
His father raised his eyebrow at him. “I suppose you haven’t seen the news yet. You’re right, we’ve lost that particular opportunity for the moment, but we’ve got one much better.”
His father pulled something up on his data tablet and flicked it up to the largest screen in the center of the wall.
It was a video recording with the odd angle and quality of a satellite capture. Oliver’s eyes darted around the screen, trying to find something to orient himself with—there were buildings, smoke—and then a news channel banner slid across the bottom of the screen.
Ralscoln, Capital City of Southern Tava: 10:40 AM
The new information coalesced the image into something Oliver could understand. Ralscoln, buildings freshly destroyed, fire, and smoke. That was the capital building there in the center of the screen. People were moving around on the roof.
The image cut to another angle, one from the roof itself—a security camera that must have been streaming to an outside server at the time.
A contingent of heavily armed men and women, mostly human, strode across the roof toward the flagpole in the center. A handful of klah’eel guards rushed at them from the other side of the screen, they exchanged fire, and in moments, the far outnumbered klah’eel lay dead.
One man stepped forward and looked down at the bodies. He wasn’t tall, but he was broad-shouldered, and his presence dominated the screen. When he lifted his face, Oliver could see that it was rugged and stubbled and handsome in a dangerous sort of way that made Oliver’s hackles rise.
He waved the men behind him forward, and they rushed toward the flagpole. Then he looked directly at the camera. He looked long with his eyes narrowed. He wanted his face to be seen. Then he lifted his gun, let the camera stare down its barrel for a second, and the image cut out.
The newsreel returned to the satellite video just as a new flag was hoisted over the capital building. A blank, black, flickering banner that seemed to suck in all the light that hit it.
His father flicked off the video as footsteps approached them from behind.
“Congratulations, Oliver.”
Oliver turned to see Dominic walking across the room, a hard smile on his strong features. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, he had the coloring of their mother, striking and attractive but very different from their father. Oliver shared their father’s coloring, and it was yet one more advantage he had that Dominic resented him for.
“You’ve got us a war.”
“And there’s nothing better for business than a war.” Their father pulled the graphs back up on the screen. “Especially now that we’re in a better position than the Wate Group.”
Oliver looked back at the screens, not seeing them. It was a war. The Resistance had just raised a flag over the capital of Southern Tava. It might not be a war between two species states, but the Klah’Eel would need to act. They needed to get their land back, and they needed to put down this insurrection they’d allowed to get far too powerful.
Oliver nodded as his mind raced through the opportunity and how all the pieces could fit together. “I’ve already made the diplomatic connections we’ll need. Many of the individuals were probably killed in the attack, but we’ve still got better access and a stronger network to draw on than any other Human company. Particularly when it comes to Southern Tava.”
“Exactly.” His father grabbed his shoulder again and beamed up at the screens. Even the feel of the grit and debris pushing into his skin wasn’t enough to make Oliver flinch away from that approving gesture.
Dominic came abreast of them and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “And no species state is going to condemn us for helping to put down a terrorist group that threatened our own golden boy.”
“No, indeed.” Their father shook his head. “PR has already started drumming up support and sympathy for the family. Play our cards right, and we’ll be able to ride the wave of goodwill for months.” He glanced at Oliver and then pointed at his face. “That scrape is perfect. Make sure a photographer gets a picture of that before it starts to scab.”
Oliver frowned and lifted his fingers to his cheek. His skin stung when he made contact just over his right cheekbone. He supposed that probably did strike the right balance between dashing and victimized.
“Like I said, congratulations, Oliver.” Dominic smiled at him, because it never did to fight in front of their father, but his blue eyes were like ice.
“Will you be heading back to Earth then, Dom?” Oliver rolled his shoulders back and put his hands on his hips. “Someone will need to hold down the company while Father and I deal with the situation here.”
“No. Carson is going to handle that.” Their father shook his head. “Dominic has a part to play here.”
“An important one, actually.” Dominic pulled out his data tablet and started flicking mathematical and chemical formulas onto the screens. “This opportunity comes at the perfect time for my latest project. I—”
“You’ll have time for that tomorrow.” Their father flicked all of Dominic’s work back off the screens and pulled up the headings of Oliver’s dossiers. “I want to discuss our diplomatic plan of attack with Oliver.”
Oliver saw Dominic swallow before he nodded briskly. “Of course.”
Their father waved his hand in the air. “Why don’t you go work on your presentation? It will need to be perfect for tomorrow.”
