Queens

[Livvy Sandoval]

"No ticket. He's likely on a government pass. Give me a second. It probably won't ground him for good, but it could delay him." Livvy's fingers danced over the console commands. After a long moment she grinned widely, "Oh, I am good. I just revoked his diplomatic visa and back dated it six months so it showes he's been here illegally all this time. Should be sufficient to get him detained for a while."

[Gale Ryder]

"Excellent, nice work Livvy." Gale said with a smile as he turned on the car's emergency lights and made it seem as if they were secret service. "We'll be at the airport any minute." he said while using the towncar's hover engines to get above the traffic and darted between the traffic flows. "Cass, remind me to thank mum for teaching me to drive... " he chuckled.

"Your mother is a nutter behind the wheel." Cassie deadpanned.

Gale managed to park the towncar near the airport, a quick flash of 'good enough' looking badges and dark sunglasses made the gate guards let them pass through.

"Now to see if we can actually get through to George without being detained ourselves." Gale said and looked around. "Livvy, think you can get us access to wherever he is?"

[Prince George]

"I just got you into the Customs and Immigration Enforcement. I'm sending you your credentials and cover IDs now. I flagged the prince for detention so they should be holding him in the customs office."


-Ronald Reagan Intergalactic Spaceport-

"Your ticket please," the security agent said automatically without even looking up from his podium as George stepped forward.

"I haven't got one mate. Flying on a government pass."

The agent sighed and looked up at George finally. "Passport? Or are you too good for one of them too?"

"My sister is," George laughed. "Though it would be a bit mental for her to issue her own passport," he joked as he handed over the data card containing his travel information.

The security agent gave George a nonplussed expression and inserted the card into his terminal. He looked over the information with a placid expression. Pressing a button on his podium he spoke into a hidden microphone, "Harry, can you come to station eight. I got a 22-8."

George didn't have a clue what a "22-8" was, but this was certainly out of the ordinary. Moments later two burly security officers led by the quintessential middle management type complete with mustache approached.

Without introduction, Mustache looked at George, took his passport from the outstretched hand of the original agent, and simply said, "Come with us, sir."

"What's this about?" George asked following behind Mustache while Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum fell in behind him. His mind was racing. Had his sister banned him from coming home? That didn't seem right. Marissa was petty, but not in that way. She was more likely to just kill him than exile him.

George was led into the Customs office where Mustache turned to him. "Empty your pockets then go and stand facing the wall with your legs apart."

Still not having a clue what was going on he started to object, "I am the British Ambassador to the Terran Imperium. I hold a diplomatic visa and enjoy full diplomatic immunity."

"You may have held those privileges, but not anymore Mr. Windsor," Mustache replied. "Your visa was revoked six months ago."

"Marissa, you damn bitch," George growled as he emptied his pockets.

"You will keep a civil tongue in my office," Mustache admonished.

George was fuming, but making a scene likely would have made things worse for him. And this embarrassment and indignity WAS something Marissa would get a good laugh over. Turning to the wall Tweedle Dee patted him down and then half lead him, half tossed him into a nearby cell.

"What now?" George demanded.

"This one is out of my hands. You are being held on a 22-8."

"Which is?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Customs Agents from downtown are on their way. You're lucky that the Emperor reformed our detention centers. It was much much worse under Tiberius." Mustache laughed turned and walked away. Then almost as an afterthought, "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Windsor."

[Cassandra Windsor]

Gale and Cassandra made their way to the secure detention center. Probably one of the few times Cassie felt that her near complete deletion from the history of the Hastings and Windsor families was actually a good thing, even in her modeling career with Alice, she was *just* a pretty face with a high tech mask that disguised her identity, she still kept it in her pocket, but in this era and in this city, only a history nerd would really recognize her.

"Agent Hastings. Lt. Hunt." Cassie said as she cocked her head to Gale. "We're here for Windsor."

"Ah the 22-8." the guard chuckled and motioned. "They've been waiting for you, got here quick."

"This IS the 25th Century." Cassie replied and from behind her dark sunglasses she scanned the computer and tapped the frame twice before removing them. "Now, take us to Windsor."

All this was bringing back memories of the times she'd been arrested for indecent exposure or drunk driving or defacing property... just different on the other side of the bars. Her kilden was strapped to her leg under the zipper to her long skirt, luckily Nicholas had designed a piece of tech that disguised it from sensors. The little tricks and toys the man developed even out of his own time was remarkable.

"C'mon... " the guard gestured and lead them to his room. "He's all your's."

Gale cleared his throat. "Your highness..." he said respectfully.

Cassie was less respectful. "Georgie Georgie... why must there always be one black sheep in the Windsor house? Paranoia and running... that's not a good look on you lad."

[Prince George]

George didn't take the bait. He simply swing his feet off the edge of the shelf that doubled as a bed and seating for the cell. He adjusted his tie and sleeves and approached her. "I'm clean now. I have done everything the family expects of me now, and I do it well. It was time to grow up. So no, I'm not running, and paranoia is when you think someone is out to get you. I know. I don't know how I know but I do."


He stood before Cassie with his hands behind his back looking her over with curiosity. "Who are you? You remind me of my sister Ashley. That quirk of the mouth, how you stand. We're related aren't we?"

[Cassandra Windsor]

"Luv, I'm British just the same as you, we're all related in some way probably." Cassie replied. "And if you weren't running then why take a flight so suddenly? Or were you trying to draw out whoever was after you? Which wasn't us by the way in case you were thinking we have any ill intent."

[Prince George]

"No, it's more than a shared heritage," George replied. "It's..
Oh hell, I can't explain it, but you remind me of my sister, Ashley. Anyway, no, I wasn't running. I was going to confront my other sister. You know, the Queen? She is either a threat or she's in danger. Either way this is a conversation best not shared over a bloody com line."

[Cassandra Windsor]

"I couldn't agree more - however if you think she's after you or she's in danger herself... what are you prepared to do about it?" Cassie raised an eyebrow. "Your record indicates you're not much of a fighter, other than in pubs. May I make a suggestion... we find out what the threat is before you rush into it and get your bloody fool head blown off. It wasn't your sister that cancelled your travel pass, it was us. We're tasked with keeping an eye on you so that war doesn't erupt on Earth over something silly."

Gale nodded his head. "We're with a Special Services branch that deals with protecting high value targets like yourself and others in your family. We don't answer to any particular government... per se. We don't work for your sister even though we are technically her subjects."

"I believe the term 'hashtag not my queen' applies." Cassie said with a slight chuckle.

[Prince George]

He frowned with barely hidden annoyance, "Then get me bloody out of here."

[Cassandra Windsor]

"One condition, you come with us... we keep you safe until we can figure out the next move. Deal?" Cassie extended her hand to him. "If that pleases you your Highness?"