---    Guild Report.


Wymera Oroyo was the matriarch of the most powerful family on Mephus, and head of the Trading Guild which now bore her family's name.  Well into her ninth decade, she had outlived both of her younger sisters.  Her fur was no longer black, but a soft silver gray in which the bright white double stripe of her family could still be seen.

Centuries of planning and manipulation by the great houses of Mephus, had slowly absorbed or outright eliminated the controlling members of the original Triad.  The AI revolt on Racca and the Krysh invasion of Laggos had been fortuitous, and instrumental in cementing complete Mephitine control of the Trading Guild.

The Federation's military was spread thin across the frontier, in the continued search for Krysh outposts, leaving the core systems open for those willing to take advantage of lax regulation and policing.  As such, the Guild had been able to spread mostly unmolested into every corner of federated space, monopolizing trade where it could, and hindering it where it could not.

Intermarriage and infighting between the Mephitine houses had consolidated power further until only the Oroyo family held any sway over Guild operations.  Most would consider the Oroyo Trading Guild to be 'organized crime', but when the people in power are the ones who define what constitutes a crime, it's just business.

Wymera's focus on maintaining control of the guild, coupled with her relentless drive for power, had made her one of the most powerful and influential people in the Federation.  But it had also left her where she was today.  In bed, alone and bitter, dying, without an heir.

Her bed surrounded by a multitude of displays, each focused on some aspect of the Guild's operation.  Real-time market analysis of commodity values between the various star systems, political hot spots, and disasters, both natural and unnatural.  All designed to let her keep a finger on the pulse of trade and business opportunity within her sphere of influence.  All but one of which were currently being ignored.

In the corner of the nearest monitor was a single two-way communication feed to an otherwise forgettable mining outpost in the fringe.  Even with the assistance of hyperspace comm-relays, the image skipped and the audio stuttered with an obvious delay from the distances involved.

---

"The police report listed it as 'accidental detonation of mining explosives' but the pattern of destruction implies otherwise," replied Gold, her voice slightly muffled by a respirator.  "There is nothing left.  The entire complex was utterly destroyed."

The video feed switched to a view from high on the crater's rim as it panned across the decimated remains of the homestead.  "Weston and his entire team were killed.  I think she was waiting for them, or had set a trap.  The police were only able to provide an estimated body count by tissue typing the remains."

"Two graves were also found on site, one of which matches the description given by the old man in the shop.  There wasn't much left of her that is recognizable, but the coroner confirmed that a dragon from Internal Security took the remains and had them buried at the minestead next to her husband."

"Such sentimental creatures," rasped Wymera with sarcasm. "And the other?"

"The other predates the explosion by at least six months."  Her commentary paused a moment, as the optics panned across the graves.  The older of which included a headstone with the name Dolan Uwuru, emblazoned with the Oroyo crest.  "I am sorry to report, your grandson has been dead for over a year, Mistress."

The old skunk did not show any visible reaction to this news.  "Was 'she' with the dragon?" she rasped.

"Unknown, nobody we interviewed mentioned seeing her, but considering the post-mortum removal of Weston's tail, we are assuming so.  The store keeper said he helped the dragon bury Melinda's remains, but made no mention of another Mephitine being present.  However, given the condition of his memory, he may have simply forgotten."

---

Standing next to Wymera's bed was her personal physician, looking over a completely different set of monitors.  The mephitine doctor had been in the matriarchs confidence for over a decade, maintaining her health and hiding her weaknesses from the outside world.  However, unlike most of her inner circle of secret keepers, the doctor was less than half her age, and male.

After what would have otherwise been a fatal heart attack, he had saved the old woman's life, using an untested procedure of his own design.  Afterwords he had only asked that he be allowed to remain at her side, as payment.  

Having been raised and educated off world, his behavior and mannerisms brought no end of agitation to other members of her entourage.  His brashness and familiarity with the matriarch riled her sycophants, and soon the rumors began to spread, that his interest in her extended outside the realm of medical care.

One of Wymera's personal body guards once threatened to have him lashed, for having the audacity to call her by name, instead of 'Mistress'.  The guard later found herself on the receiving end of those same whips.  Such was the favoritism shown for this young doctor.

As he turned to address her, she made a gesture toward the display, temporarily muting and blinding the connection.

"We're running out of time, Wymera," said the doctor as he looked over the displays again.  "My team is as ready as it will ever be, we only need the surrogate vessel and a secure location."

Placing his hand over hers, he gave it a small squeeze.  Their eyes met, and the tiniest hint of a smile formed at the corner of her mouth, just before she began to cough.

"Where is that simpering lawyer?" growled the old woman before her coughing made speech impossible.

Almost immediately a tubby Raccan in formal attire was at her side, data pad and stylus at the ready.  "Right here, mistress," he said, averting his eyes away from the old woman's display of infirmity.  The little lawyer had been with the matriarch far longer than the doctor had.  He knew his place, and importance, but the only chain anchoring him to her side was made of money.

Once the coughing fit had run is course, and she had sufficiently recovered, Wymera steadied herself and took a deep breath.  "Lucian, have you finished working up the necessary legal paperwork for my impending death and reinstatement?" she asked.

"Not yet, Mistress," he apologized, keeping his head bowed.  "As you can imagine, the situation is exceptionally unique.  Some of the legal verbiage is being invented as we go, however we are confident that the final draft will be unassailable and legally binding."

"Do so with all speed.  The time to test your twisted words may be close at hand," she proclaimed.

"Yes, Mistress," he said nodding as he bowed and backed away.

---

Composing herself, Wymera returned her attention to the communication channel, and resumed the feed.  "Do you have anything else to report?" she asked.

"The local constabulary are asking what to do with Weston's body.  They have kept it frozen since the incident."  'Not difficult to do that around here,' she added to herself.  "Shall we recover his skull for his family?"

"No.  I will waste no more resources on that degenerate.  Besides, he lost his tail," spat Wymera in disgust.  "Have the police contact Clarista.  She can decide if her son is worth venerating after that shame."  

"And your grandson?" asked Gold.

"Leave him.  He can remain entombed on that frozen waste, buried next to that upstart commoner he ran off with," snarled Wymera.

"Yes, mistress," said Gold with an affirmative nod.

"You two have done well," said the old skunk in an almost praising tone.

"Thank you, mistress," they both replied.

"See how much the pair of you can accomplish when you aren't trying to upstage each other?" she admonished, returning to her usual demeanor.  "I am giving you both a new assignment.  I'm ordering you to recover a rogue asset, which is currently under the protection of Internal Security.  Should an opportunity arise, when that protection becomes lax, or is unavailable, I want you to recover that asset. Understood?"

"Yes, mistress," replied Silver and Gold together.

"And if the dragon should get in the way...," Wymera added, leaving an obvious implication unsaid.

"Understood, mistress," replied Gold with a nod.

"But before you leave, I order you to fix that headstone," said the old skunk with a frown.

"Yes, Mistress," replied Gold snapping to attention before the link disconnected.

When she saw Gold's posture relax, Silver lowered the data pad, her arms sore from having held it up for so long.  "Can we go now?  Night is approaching and I'm freezing."

"One last thing," said Gold as she unholstered her sidearm.  Taking careful aim, she defaced the top half of Dolan's headstone with one shot, removing the Oroyo family crest.  "Now we can go."