The papers checkpoint was little more than a collection of lanes that led to a Drinarna officer who specialized in assessing visitors for threats. Having visited various LĂŒshanian cities throughout the last two decades, Emilia had been through many checkpoints, but this was her first time not going through the diplomatic entrance.
Technically,
she probably could have asked to go through it, but sheâd have to wait for the rest of the students on the other side, so there wasnât much of a point in speeding things up a bitâmostly, the perk of the diplomatic entrance was skipping the line, which had been virtually nonexistent anyways. Plus, this way, sheâd get the chance to scandalize whatever agent was unlucky enough to end up with herâthere was nothing quite as shocking to officials as realizing they were questioning someone nigh untouchable.
Baalphoria and LĂŒshanâs relations were good enough that diplomats, their children and wards, as well as most other
official
visitors had diplomatic immunity. The most the government would be able to do to her, even if she caused problems, was deport her, and unlike in Seerâikâtine or Dionâwhere she definitely got away with far more than was reasonableâLĂŒshan really would deport her. So, no causing problems here! Not that she ever hadânot really!
The only real incident sheâd been involved in hadnât been her fault, and sheâd helped take down a trafficking ring! Had she caused problems? Definitely. Had she gotten in trouble for it? Yes, but not from the local governmentâtheyâd been quite thankful, overall; rather, her father had been horrified when he learned what happened. Honestly, she couldnât blame himâmost people didnât let themselves be kidnapped, all so they could
maybe
help a few trafficking victimsâbut seriously, the man had known her most of her life! He had been one of the people to instill in her such a desire to do good in the world, even at the cost of her own safety! What did he expect her to do, if she happened across someone doing evil? Leave them to continue!?
Shaking her head at the memory of her father tryingâand mostly failingâto argue that she should have just reported what she knew to the clones or Drinarna, rather than use herself as bait, Emilia stepped up to the officer.
âJa ma!â she cheered, smiling at the tired looking young womanâso tired looking that Emilia couldnât bring herself to follow through with her original plan of just letting whatever officer she fell into the path of realize who she was.
Tired grey eyes blinked back at her. A tight, exhausted smile pulled over the womanâs face as she returned Emiliaâs greeting, and they set to work, Emilia explaining who she was and why she was coming through this entrance, rather than the diplomatic one, in quick, precise LĂŒtian. The result wasnât practically funâthere was no moment of shock, other than a slight widening of those tired eyes. Instead, the woman immediately called a superior from the diplomatic entrance to find out how to deal with her. Most likely, the officer had expected to be given instructions on how to fill out her papers and let her into the city. Instead, barely a minute later, Officer Dashen appeared and shooed the younger officer away.
âEmilia,â the older woman greeted, laying out a collection of papers for them to go through in quick succession. âIs anyone else with you?â
âGrenner,â she told the woman, who she had met a few times over the years. Her father visited more than just the capital, so it wasnât like she knew the officers who worked any specific checkpoint well, but this particular woman had worked the FalmĂer station for at least a decade. âCan I get special privileges for our teacher, as well?â she asked, after repeating her explanation of why she was there and going through that entrance to Officer Dashen.
âDo you foresee him needing them?â the woman asked, eyes snapping up to cut into her.
âUh⊠no? Probably not? Heâs very well-behaved, but heâs also managing a bunch of young adults and me. It might be nice for him to have a little leeway.â
Emilia contemplated what sort of leeway he would even get. Essentially, what he got was the ability to break any law and just be deported, with a little extra forgiveness for what sort of crimes would actually result in deportation. Emilia couldnât see him breaking any laws. For as strict as LĂŒshanâs laws could be, there was little they could get up to that wouldnât result in deportation anywaysâas previously stated, Baalphoria and LĂŒshan had relatively stable relations, and neither was going to risk that over something as silly as a Baalphorian non-dev, say, punching someone for being rude to one of his students, or something equally ridiculous.
âNever mind,â she finally said, waving the request away as she glanced over the paperwork Officer Darshan pushed her way, initialling and signing where necessary. It was all pretty standardâan understanding that while she would only ever be deported for crimes committed on LĂŒshanian soil, there was a good chance she wouldnât be welcomed back either. âIf Olivier breaks any laws that wouldnât just result in his deportation as a visitor, there would have to be something seriously wrong.â
A notification popped up across her Censor as she swished her signature across the final pageâsome note that although she hadnât been watching Officer Darshanâs reactions, her Censor had been, and
something
about her reaction to Emiliaâs comment about
something being seriously wrong
hadnât been quite right.
Was something going on in the city?
When Emilia looked back up, the officerâs expression was one of neutral kindness that seemed just a little too
off.
âI will see what I can do,â the woman said, gathering the papers before swiftly disappearing, almost as though she had known her attempts to hide that something was indeed happening in the city hadnât been particularly convincing.
Emilia had concerns. She had a great many concerns as she made her way through to the checkpointâs exit, sending off a message to Grenner, so he could poke around both during his own entrance into the city and with his Drinarna contacts. Pulling out her xphern, Emilia fired off a few messages to her own contacts in the city, few as they were, especially given the Drinarna officers she was friendly with werenât quite as willing to share secrets with her as The Black Knot were.
The air as she exited the checkpoint was crisp, filled with the subtle taste of earth and all the metals that decorated the walls and ceiling of the cavern that housed FalmĂer. Baalphoria and LĂŒshan had become allies around the beginning of the last Colonial War. The Free Colony had broken away from Falrion control several centuries earlier, but struggled to find allies at a time when so much of the western continent was beholden to either Falrion or Dion. With the war allowing so many nations to break away from that control as Dion fought Falrion on one side, Baalphoria on the other, LĂŒshan had taken the chance to cement an alliance with Baalphoria.
Of the many things that had come out of that alliance, the various systems that Baalphoria had gifted LĂŒshan were perhaps the most noticeable. Once, LĂŒshanâs underground cities had been filled with pollution and noise; for nearly three hundred years, Baalphorian technology had kept the world clean and quiet.
Still, allegedly it was easy to see Falrionâs influence in the culture and architecture of the city, if only one knew what to look for. Emilia had no idea what to look like, Falrion a relatively standoffish nation to virtually everyone. Her father went there, occasionally, but it was about as common as when he visited the Northern Tribes.
As a whole, though, she couldnât deny that parts of most LĂŒshanian cities reminded her of other nations that had once had close ties with Falrion. Everything was dark and packed tight, allowing the unavoidable claustrophobia of the cavern itself to deepen and dig its claws into anyone who dared allow its fear too close. Although she had rarely visited after their creepy non-dev had propositioned her, Jinkai was another Free Colony where Falrionâs heavy influence could still be found, and Emilia could see the similarities between the two, although LĂŒshan was nicer⊠more organized, she supposed. Jinkaiâs capital was a maze of a city, all the buildings seeming to eat each other up until it was a mess of confusion, hallways from one building leading into buildings that one would swear was blocks away. The impression one was left with was that every building was filled with secret passages, and Emilia imagined that was how so many important members of the former regime had allegedly managed to escape the nation during the last military coup, several decades earlier.
From a distance, FalmĂer gave the same impression of cannibal buildings, but Emilia knew that once they were closer, proper alleyways and roads would suddenly appear, and the only
secret entrances
to be found lead into the cityâs intricate sewer systemâa gross, but effective means of escaping, if one were desperate enough. Hopefully, such extreme measures as wading through shit and piss wouldnât be needed.
âOh, you have got to be fucking me,â Emilia groaned as she entered the small courtyard outside the papers checkpoint, which acted as a meeting place of sorts for people entering the city. âThis is just fucking overkill! Isnât there someone⊠I donât know, less important, who can babysit me? Ciara? Prin? Fuck, Iâd even take Fawnreenâs grumpy ass over you!â she continued, pointing an accusing finger at the young woman her father had apparently arranged to come babysit her.
Total. Fucking. Overkill.
The Drinarna officer stood just as straight and proper as Emilia had ever seen her, even back when the then-ten-year-old had been visiting Baalphoria with her father on drills. Hundreds of clones and Drinarna officers had descended onto a small island off the coast, between Piketown and Roasalia. It had been the first time Emilia had been allowed to meet with anyone from LĂŒshan, and she had been so excited when she learned a girl around her age would be coming along with her father, a high-ranking Drinarna officer. The world was quite unfair, however, and Cameron Fulbrun had been a miserable, overly serious little girl. She had since become a miserable, stick-in-the-mud woman.
Cameronâs dark black eyes bore into her, framed by long lashes that didnât suit her otherwise tomboyish appearance. From the short, strict cut of her black hair, to her tall, thin body, nothing about the woman was soft, and if Emilia hadnât once outright asked if sheâd rather be a boy, she would be convinced the woman was trying to be a man. Cameron could have been lying, of course, when her teenage self had snapped that she definitely didnât want to be a boyâand in hindsight, Emilia probably shouldnât have asked, just hinted a bit more obviously that regardless of what Cameron wanted to be, sheâd support her, unpleasant personality or not. It hadnât felt like Cameron was lying, though. She was just a happily boyish woman. All the power to her, as long as that power was far,
far
away from her!
âCanât your daddy watch me instead~?â Emilia groaned as more of the class exited the papers checkpoint, and yeah, Olivier had been right: at least two more seemed to be only now realizing they did not like it underground and wanted to return to the ship.
âHe cannot,â Cameron replied, eyes flicking to where Olivier was exiting the papers checkpoint along with Grenner and the students who every much did not want to be there. âOlivier de la Rue? I am Officer Cameron Fulbrun,â she said, saluting and rambling off whatever official designation she now hadâapparently sheâd been promoted in the year since theyâd last had the misfortune of meeting, going from some form of student intern to slightly more adult intern, as her education wasnât nearly done.
Good for her, making her way up the ranks. Emilia might join the group heading back to the ship, thanks. Maybe she would have, if she hadnât had a craving for a very specific FalmĂer dessert⊠If she was fast, maybe she could sneak off andâ
As though they could read her thoughts, both Olivier and Cameron looked her way, and thenâ
âFuck!â Emilia hissed as a band of energy wrapped itself around her wrist, effectively locking her and Cameron together. âOverkill, much?â
The womanâs eyes slid over her, dismissive and judging all at once. âNo,â was all she said before turning back to Olivier and quickly discussing the schedule for the day, while Grenner asked if anyone else would like to return to the ship.
Emilia raised her hand.
Grenner, traitor that he was, smiled and waved as he left her to her fate of being locked to Cameron like a naughty child.