The Recovery room in the Medical wing was Dorean’s nightmare. He could not remember how much time he had spent in this place. Dull and chilly, white except the blinking lights of machines monitoring his condition, it did nothing to improve his general set of mind. Minutes seemed hours, hours seemed days. He just wished he would have been killed, instead of spending so much time immobilised in a hospital bed.

Dorean was a pilot. His entire existence revolved around starships, space travelling and galactic battles. He loved being surrounded by colour, whether it was the dark shades of infinity, dotted with countless blinking stars, the swirl of distant galaxies or the luxuriance of the planets he visited during his rare leaves of duty. Hells, he even missed the incongruous mixes one saw in the garments of the Court of Mirimar.

He tried to imagine himself somewhere, anywhere but here. The Dragoni gardens of the Emperor’s palace would have been a good place, yes… with the strange palm trees and the miniature waterfalls typical to Mirimar…

But they would not come. The visions would not come. He had had no dreams since he had woken up there, no dreams to soothe the emptiness all around him. He wondered what else they had taken from him. The metal shrill of a door announced someone had entered the room. Another member of the damned medical staff, no doubt. Another one of those that kept him there, immobilized, with no choice but to glance at the blankness of the walls.

A familiar voice broke the silence. “Dorean? Can you hear me?”

He turned his head a little to glance at his visitor. He studied his clothes with mute fascination, the dissonant colours a redemption to his eyes. He tried to smile. At least he had not failed in his mission.

“And how are you today, my Emperor?”

Emperor Sarena smiled. I should be the one asking that, my friend. Whatever pushed you to jump in front of me that day, anyway? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

That was Sarena Kwer’sih to his friends; he would never admit to the fact he could have been killed, or that his death would have undoubtedly led to another endless war between The Galactic Empire of Mirimar and the Derah Federation. Instead, he would give the impression he had complete control of the situation.

“What are you doing here, Sarena? Weren’t you supposed to be leading some negotiations or something?” Dorean whispered, licking his dry lips. If the Emperor was there, things were worse than he had thought at first.

“They are long over, I should say. You will also be delighted to know the would-be assassin turned out to be more innocent than we thought at first.” Sarena made a disgusted face. “And you’ve just spent fours weeks being strapped on this bed and fed painkillers, missing all the fun.”

“That long, eh? Say, you wouldn’t happen to know the damned codes for this contraption, would you? I could use a little walk.”

Sarena smiled then, a rare occurrence indeed. “Oh, I happen to know a lot more than that. You, my friend, are going on vacation.”

“I am what?” Dorean snapped. “Are you insane? The Federation could attack us any moment, there’s an assassin out there with a warrant to kill you, and you’re sending me on vacation?!”

“That’s right, Commander. My bodyguards can take care of the assassin, and there are plenty of other pilots to fill up for you until you get back. Besides, I have to repay you for your services somehow. Tell me, how long since you’ve been on Akeda?”

Dorean’s breat caught. Akeda, or ‘The Planet of Lust’, was well-known among all of them as the primary place to go if you were looking for gambling, entertainment, or merely carnal pleasure.

“Sarena, I honestly don’t think this is…”

“… a good idea? Honestly, Dorean, I don’t care what you think. You’re going, and that’s an order. It’s high time you did something else besides fighting,” the Emperor said while disabling the energy field that had kept the commander restricted. “Now, your transport leaves in four hours. You can go freely, or I can have you restrained and taken on board. Either way, you have six weeks of leave, and if you get back any time sooner I shall have you disciplined. Understood?”

Standing up and flexing his hands, Dorean nodded. Anything was better than the hospital room. “And where exactly am I going, on Akeda?”

Sarena offered him a malicious smile. “You are going to a place called The Palace of the Keys. And I have sent word that you are a most special guest, and should be treated as such.” A gloved hand touched his, slipping something cold in his palm and closing his fingers around it. “This is your Key, by the way. I suggest you carry it on your person at all times. Losing it might prove… inconvenient for both parties.”