Rising from her seat, Agnes walked towards the serving cart to the side and noticed that half the bottles were almost empty. Pointing with a finger she asked:"Yours?" Not waiting for a reply, she merely moved on to continue to peruse the items around the office. "The story of your path through the Armed Forces is borderline fantasy, my Lady Governor. Sponsored or not, it takes several tours of duty or years to reach this position and even then.." She made a clicking sound with her mouth. "There is also the matter that your men and women do not trust you to see them through the day. Terrible state of affairs."
Agnes' accusation of alcoholism deeply offended Elizabeth, even more than the previous slights, as it was something she truly didn't do. "You have wasted my time. Go do your mission, but you will do it without my help." She opened the door, showing Agnes out.
Nodding, she initiated the walk towards the door, stopping short at the side of Elizabeth. Placing her hand on the door, the nanites that formed the skin receded, showing off the cold, black metal that formed it. With an uncharacteristically unnerving smile, Agnes closed the door slowly, dragging Elizabeth on her feet who was holding the door knob. Like she wasn't even holding it back. "We're not done, my Lady." The door clicked as it closed, leaving a stunned Elizabeth looking at the metal hand. Turning around, Agnes walked towards her chair. "Do not bother calling for help, for there is none for you." The accent changed as the nanites covered the hand again.
There have been numerous attempts of assassination against Elizabeth and this one, she was sure, was the best so far. Who ordered it did not concern her, only that this one might even succeed. She carried no weapons with herself because she wanted to appear as a benign governor who resolves matters with talk rather than weapons, and of course, because she was confident in her many layers of security. It was run by Captain Pria Y'berg, one of the three only persons in her life who she trusted -- another was Alexandra Ward, her half-sister, who was trained in combat and who Elizabeth used as a kind of a personal bodyguard, but Alexandra was absent at the time. The third was her mother.
"Guards!", she exclaimed. "Guards!" No one came. "Guards!!!", she screamed louder, but still no one came. Although sure that she would now die, it was beneath her dignity to go without a last, if only symbolic, act of spite. Elizabeth took the black glove off of her left hand to slap her assailant with it. Her left hand was covered with severe burn marks.
The block happened, quickly and without concern. Sighing, she looked at the woman in front of her, glove in hand. "I see that you got burned. Poor thing." Without compromise, she lifted Elizabeth in the air and forced her to sit on the chair. "If you're thinking this is an assassination, you are mistaken, Lady Governor. No. This is something far worse." Walking back to her own seat, she opened her wrist-pad and wrote a small sentence. "This is change, Elizabeth. Much like your father went through. A change for the better. Not for you, no. It's for Bretonia." A small beep sounded as she sat, on the opposite end. Looking at the quick reply, she looked back at Elizabeth. "You're no fighter pilot, I'll give you that. But you can be a true captain, just like your father. Your capital training records are non-existent. A flaw that can be quickly fixed, if you have the heart for it." Swiping the message away, she sighed and looked at the window, thinking of the past. "Your men have little respect for you. So do the locals. You try to play both sides, like a politician, but to little to no avail. And yet you are placed in the cold frontier, where the beasts around you don't respect words, only rewards or strength. Am I wrong?"
"I'm a monster. The real kind." She replied quickly and sighing. Pinching the bridge nose, she found herself that patience did not came easily. "Focus, woman." She said seriously at Elizabeth. "Or you will find my slap is faster and hits harder than a Templar." Rising from her seat, she quickly traveled to Elizabeth and placed her hands on her shoulders. "Do you want to be more than a joke suffering under the shadow of your father and Dagon?" Her voice was cold, serious and her blue eyes bore into Elizabeth's skull.
Elizabeth's skull did not like being bored into. She attempted another spiteful jolt at Agnes' cheek, but Agnes squeezed her right arm so hard that she dropped the glove. As a last resort, she wanted to spit in Agnes' face, but the tiny olive branches that suddenly started emerging from Agnes' words saved Elizabeth from the would-be consequences.
Instead, she just stared, her eyes gaping widely, her breathing rapid, as helplessly as a bunny at the slaughter. Agnes was in control of her body, but not of her soul. If one of them was to offer something, it would be Agnes. Elizabeth would give her no words without receiving something in return first.
Still pinning her against the chair, Agnes said in an apologetic tone. "If you want to, I will leave. And with me this offer for you to be something more. Someone worthy of being remembered." Both hands holding Elizabeth suddenly became what they truly were as the skin disappeared once again. "Panic like a schoolgirl and I will remove your tongue and shred your arms." The pressure disappeared and as she was wincing, Elizabeth saw the horrible hands locked, as if Agnes was awaiting her decision.
"We can talk", her shivering voice squealed as she had realized that Agnes most likely truly was a commander of the Armed Forces, though one of those who lost both body and mind in the war. "But first you will have to let me down."