The Spider Queen

(Alpha Star System- Planet Urrnea)

(Private Estate- Conference Room)

Inside a dimly lit conference room one could smell the heavy scent of smoke that hung in the air.

The only source of light came from the roaring fireplace in the corner of the room that casted long shadows on the walls.

A large metalloid table had been placed in the center of the room and it was surrounded by chairs made of memory foam material.

Middle aged men and women sat around the table each wearing expensive clothing. Sharp black tuxedos and suits for the men and colourful dresses for the women.

Their exposed hands were adorned with luxurious jewellery such as bracelets made of rare metals and rings that glowed with an eerie light.

They were a group of powerful people.

Nobles who stood at the top of the social hierarchy of the Earth Federation. They possessed enormous wealth and influence.

Some of the nobles in the room owned planets or lunar colonies and held the fate of millions of people in their hands.

Still despite their enormous power and authority, their eyes all gazed towards the elderly man sitting at the head of the table.

He was a tall, gaunt figure with eyes that had dark circles beneath them. His hair was completely white and fell down to his shoulders.

He wore a long black robe that gave him a scholarly aura and held a small book in his right hand that was bound in a leather skin.

The Grand Tutor of the Imperial family.

A man no longer in the graces of the royal family since the death of Emperor Sisrelis but whose influence was still strong.

The elderly man coughed heavily and then reached into his pocket for a long brown tube. He raised the end of the tube to his lips and then took in a deep breath.

He gently exhaled and a large puff of smoke exited his lips. The smoke cloud dispersed fairly quickly but one could still smell the scent of herbs.

"The reports suggest that Duke Peterlor is dead," the Grand Tutor broke the silence in the room with a soft whisper.

"Yes… so the Imperial Army reports say," a noble sitting towards the end of the table replied with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Can we verify that information? Who was the commander responsible for deploying the duke to enemy lines?" another asked quietly.

"Commander Solomon…" a woman spoke up as her hands flicked through a series of documents on the table in front of her.

"An incompetent man who only holds such a position due to his connections with House Belfort and the Lindenberg Financial Group."

The Grand Tutor placed his hands on the table and stared quietly off into the distance while the nobles in the room debated whether or not the duke was still alive.

The debate got louder and louder until it evolved into loud arguing with each side presenting their case with reason and logic.

Some were convinced that the commander could not be trustworthy and therefore further verification was needed.

Others argued that because of Commander Solomon's corruption, it would be easy for the third party forces to take advantage of his greed.

Since the report, Duke Peterlor had yet to show himself despite the rumors flying around the virtual Net.

His daughter would be the sole inheritor of his estate.

Would the duke who famously loved his daughter willingly throw her to the wolves so early?

"I believe that Duke Peterlor is dead," the Grand Tutor finally whispered as he raised up his right hand and silenced the room.

"Of course there is a need for further investigation but I have a connection with Commander Solomon and he assures me that the duke has been killed."

"Regardless… our next steps remain clear. We must prevent his hybrid daughter from becoming the duchess of House Peterlor."

"How? She has enough support from her father's allies to prevent any challenges and House Peterlor doesn't have any other heirs," a handsome man questioned in an even tone.

"Who said that House Peterlor has no heirs?" the Grand Tutor smirked as he tapped a button on his wrist communicator.

Buzz! Buzz!

A file arrived in the inbox of the other communicators in the room and the nobles took a few seconds to see what was inside.

The file contained the profile of a cold looking middle aged noble woman with sharp angular features.

Her skin was smooth and fair and there was a rosy tint to her cheeks that spoke of a pampered life of luxury.

Rich black hair gently cascaded down from her shoulders and despite her beauty there was a sense of intelligence to her features that suggested that she was not just a mere vase.

"Who is that?" someone asked after reviewing the picture and failing to match the face to the nobles that he knew.

"Lady Beterica of House Serpentinesa. She has not stepped foot out of her home planet for several decades now," the Grand Tutor replied with a thin smile on his lips.

"She was the wife of the former head of House Peterlor. The man who almost ended his own lineage by legitimising all of his bastards."

"Her two sons were killed by Rokan during the fight for succession and she returned to her family home."

"She cut off all ties with House Peterlor and locked herself up in a mansion. At least… that's the public story."

A noble lady interrupted with an expression of confusion on her face,

"That is all well and good but… the former wife of a long dead head of House Peterlor holds no claim to his family's territories."

The Grand Tutor tapped his fingers lightly on the table and a heavy crack appeared in the metal with every knock.

He understood the doubts and confusion from the other nobles in the room but there was one piece of information that they did not know.

Lady Beterica had managed to steal a capsule of her late husband's frozen sperm.

It was an ingenious move.

"You see… Lady Beterica hated seeing the man who killed her children take everything that rightfully belonged to them," the Grand Tutor slowly spoke.

"They were the proper heirs and yet some bastard from an unknown woman that her husband cheated on her with managed to defeat them in combat."

"So, she left but not without a plan…"

The Grand Tutor touched his wrist communicator, and another file was sent.

This time the file contained the picture of an attractive young man who bore a striking resemblance to Rokan's grandfather.

He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties and the harsh glare in his eyes made him seem like an intimidating figure.

"As the legal wife of the former Duke Peterlor, any children that she has using her husband's genetic material are still considered as members of the family," he continued in a low tone.

"The boy may be young but… his talent is real and it is good enough to mount a serious challenge to the hybrid girl."

"He may not be the direct heir but… we can sway other members of the anti-hybrid faction to support his claim to House Peterlor."