Chapter 40

THE QUEEN AWAITS

The team gathered in the armory. Alexander had already geared up, triple-checking his new drones before commanding them to hover behind him like silent shadows. He wore his lightweight torso rig with reinforced chest panels, then slipped the shoulder holster over it, tonfa swaying at his sides. Finally, he pulled on the black off-world leather duster, letting the familiar weight settle across his shoulders.

“Everything fit in the closet?” he asked, glancing at Augustus. “Bringing the cane this time, old man?”

Augustus rested a hand lightly on the hilt of his sword cane. He was immaculate as always: dark navy suit, matching tie, silver cufflinks and lapel pin.

“It’s not exactly organized, but it’s all in there,” he said. “And don’t you start aging me up. Annie already calls me grandpa.”

Annie laughed, shrugging into her jacket. Augustus had gotten the worst of the damage repaired, but blackened scars still marred the leather. She’d insisted it gave the piece character.

“But yes,” Augustus continued, “Talia gave me a crash course, so I’m confident enough now.”

Talia adjusted the katana at her waist, its black cord grip bound neat and tight. She added a wakizashi to the belt, completing the set. Her charcoal-grey two-piece suit struck a balance between elegance and readiness. Sliding on sunglasses, she turned to Augustus.

“You should give yourself more credit, gramps,” she said, hiding a smile. “You’re a natural.”

Augustus accepted it with a subtle nod, then pulled on his flat cap, adjusting until it sat right. “Annie, is that a new shirt?”

Annie spun dramatically, pulling her jacket wide as though revealing treasure. “Yes! Do you like it?”

The shirt was black, printed with a cartoon demon throwing two middle fingers. Rainbow lettering above read HELLBOIZ.

Augustus blinked, faltering. “It’s… very distinctive,” he managed.

Alexander sighed. Her collection is getting out of hand. Now there’s another one.

“Masks, Alex? Or are we being diplomatic?” Talia asked, lifting hers.

“No,” Alexander said, clipping his own mask to his belt where it would stay hidden by the duster. “Bring them, though. If we need them, fine. Otherwise, they’re just a statement that we mean business.”

As the others finished gearing up, Alexander shifted the focus.

“I know we’re hoping for the best, but we plan for the worst. Tight formation around Auggy until we know it’s safe. Auggy, don’t wait for me to give the order if something feels wrong; portal us out.”

“Understood.”

He turned to Annie. “You’re first in, last out. Shield us from any big threats, buy time for Auggy and Talia to escape, then retreat on me.”

“Got it,” she said, uncharacteristically serious.

“Talia, your job is making sure no one interrupts Auggy’s casting.”

Talia nodded once.

“And I’ll do the same while dealing with any unexpected problems. If it comes to a fight, masks on for protection.”

He met the gaze of each member of his team, confirming their readiness.

“Time to join the criminal underworld.”

Ten minutes later, they stood by the lake at the base of the waterfall. Annie stood, stretching on a boulder while Talia checked her blades for the third time. Augustus leaned theatrically on his cane, wand hidden behind his back, and gave Alexander a small nod.

Alexander pulled the card from his pocket. Despite days of handling, it was flawless, without even a bent corner. Flipping it over, he read the line once more.

For Concierge Services, Call…

He dialed. There was a strange dial tone which rang once, beeped, then disconnected.

“I don’t think it worked,” Alexander began. “It disconnected—”

Stolen from NovelBin, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Annie gasped and pointed.

He followed her gesture.

A door stood in the grass. Polished mahogany drank in the midday light, its grain shifting like ripples on water. The frame was utterly flawless, as if it had never known the indignity of a hinge squeak. The strange part wasn’t that it looked like it belonged in the entryway of some aristocrat’s manor; it was that it was standing alone in the grass, no walls or foundation, and with a waterfall crashing behind it.

The knob turned. The door swung open with barely a whisper.

A man stepped through, dressed in a maroon three-piece suit and tophat. His cut was sharp, with clean lines and stitching. If Augustus’s personal flair was all about expression, this man’s was pure uniform. Class and tradition rolled into one. He bowed low, at a perfect ninety degrees, hat pressed to his chest.

“I greet Grimnir on behalf of the Queen of Hearts, representing the Royals, and welcome you to Astra Omnia—the luxury space station where indulgence knows no bounds.”

He straightened, hat still in hand. “As a black card holder, I will be your personal concierge for the duration of your stay. However, the Queen has personally requested your presence upon arrival. She wishes to thank you for your… elegant efficiency in resolving a delicate matter.”

The concierge smiled faintly, then continued.

“Before we depart, there are courtesies and safety protocols for first-time guests. The Queen insists that all visitors enjoy their stay without unnecessary incident. Acts of theft, murder, or unprovoked aggression are strictly prohibited. Guests may keep weapons, and powers may be used freely so long as they are not forced on others. For those who wish for a more competitive outlet, sanctioned arenas are available.”

Annie perked up. “Arenas? Like, real ones? What’s the buy-in?”

“They vary by venue,” he replied smoothly. “From single duels to elaborate team matches. Some with stakes, others for spectacle. I can make introductions, should you wish.”

Annie grinned. “Oh, I wish.”

“Outside of those spaces,” he said, “any weapon discharge or power use that risks the station’s safety will be met with swift termination.”

Augustus tilted his head, approving. “Wise, on a station.”

“Indeed, sir. We employ dedicated security, including contracted heroes. Others attend as guests. Astra Omnia’s clientele is… diverse.”

Alexander noted the emphasis. Talia’s eyes narrowed.

“Just to be clear,” Alexander said, “there will be superheroes that are both on the payroll and mingling as guests?”

“Yes,” the concierge answered evenly. “The station is jointly owned, including interstellar interests, governed under galactic law, not Earth’s. The Royals operate Astra Omnia under that charter. It is what allows our doors to remain open to all: diplomats, artists, heroes, villains, even the occasional head of state.”

His smile deepened.

“Beyond that, indulge freely. Should you need assistance, I am yours for the duration. You may depart at any time, even under your own power. I must stress, however, that entry be made through strict use of a membership card. I trust you understand.”

Replacing his hat with care, he inclined his head. “If there are no further questions, Grimnir… the Queen awaits.”

Alexander glanced at his team. Talia’s quiet curiosity, Auggy’s stoicism, Annie’s barely contained excitement.

Or maybe that’s just me. I’ve never been to space before.

The waterfall thundered behind them, birdsong and rustling leaves carried in the air. Alexander held the concierge’s gaze, then nodded.

“We’re ready.”

The concierge gestured with a flourish and stepped through first. Annie led them in, Alexander satisfied enough it wasn’t a trap but unwilling to ease his caution.

They emerged into a private landing suite of white curved walls and soft light. A wall-length console held refreshments and storage, a coat stand gleamed by the door. Beyond, an arched doorway waited.

“This room is yours,” the concierge said warmly. “Security is absolute. No one enters without permission, save for emergencies.”

Alexander took in the space: seating, weapon racks flush with the walls, a private washroom. Then he followed as the concierge led on.

The door opened into the habitat ring, revealing a wide plaza.

The air was fresh with the faint scent of flowers. Pale tiles gave way to manicured terraces. Trees swayed under sunlamps disguised as hanging light sculptures.

“This is one of three Grand Plazas,” the concierge explained. “They connect the spinal core to the inner districts. From here, you may reach any sector within minutes.”

Alexander glanced upward. The station’s sky curved away, stars faint beside the pale disk of Earth, haloed in white.

“We keep a respectful distance,” the concierge said. “It preserves freedoms not found closer to home.”

As they walked, the greenery gave way to storefronts and facades. Cafes, galleries, boutiques, salons. Music throbbed faintly from hidden clubs. The Grand Plaza bustled, but not oppressively; people moved with ease, a mix of casual and formal, armored and robed, heroic and villainous. There was no posturing, just lives crossing paths.

They passed a transit shaft, its doors sliding open to reveal a cylindrical chamber.

“Private axial lifts,” the concierge said. “Gold and black card members only. They’re most useful for moving between adjacent levels. If you need to travel farther, I recommend the central axis transit shafts.”

They turned down a quiet promenade. Double doors loomed ahead, flanked by two armored figures in crimson lacquer. Their helms hid their faces, but their stillness was watchful.

“The Queen is expecting you,” the concierge said. “If I may, one last courtesy: whatever your reputation outside, here you are honored guests. It would please her greatly if you remained so.”

Alexander met his eyes and nodded.

“Should you require me, contact me with the number on the card.”

He bowed once more, then withdrew.

Alexander waited until his footsteps faded into the plaza’s murmur. Then he turned and exchanged glances with his team.

Annie rolled her shoulders, metal fingers flexing. Her eyes were bright with anticipation or excitement. Talia checked her katana but otherwise remained still; calm but coiled. Augustus simply inclined his head, hand resting on his cane. His expression was unreadable, but the focus in his eyes was enough.

Alexander let the silence breathe, then strode forward.

“Let’s not keep her waiting.”