In the few days since his mother and grandfather had died, leaving him as head of the family and their rather extensive Organization, Lelekoa had all but stopped eating. Not from grief, of course. The family did not encourage closeness, even between parent and child. No, it was fear of poison that keep him fasting. Fear of knives that kept his door locked and his eyes open more often than not. By the unwritten rules that governed them, anyone who wanted to take over had to do it over Lelekoa's dead body, and no matter that he was just a teenager in far over his head.

Even so, the fact that he was still alive was likely due less to his vigilance and more to the fact that no one saw him as a threat. They were all maneuvering among themselves, trying to secure their own position before they got around to taking him out. Probably his most direct threat was his younger sister - who was honestly better suited to the job - but she had her own threats to deal with that were probably slowing her down. In truth, no one saw Lelekoa as a threat, even when perhaps they should, and that was a problem. Or it would have been had he actually been intending to take charge like he was supposed to. For all that he had been born for the role, he had never wanted it... but equally he could not simply pass it off to someone who did. Stupid as it was, that was not how things worked.

Oh, he had made a show of trying to get things back into some semblance of order after the unprecedented attack on their headquarters.... but it was just that. A show. In truth, he had been diving frantically into his studies, leaping years ahead of what he knew himself to be ready for. He didn't have years anymore. Around him, more and more of his closer relatives had been dropping dead. He recognized Zazalika's hand in that. He could almost commend the man on his ruthlessness, and the speed with which he'd begun to take advantage of the sudden opportunity. Almost. He would have appreciated it more had he not known he was on that same list. From the pattern of the deaths, however, it was clear he was last on the list. Yet another who saw him as no threat, to be killed at leisure. Well, so be it. It gave him time.

But not very much time. Lack of food was quickly starting to tell, lack of water even more so. He'd let himself risk only the occasional sip or bite. Lelekoa was unused to such deprivation and he didn't think he could keep it up much longer. Perhaps even more importantly, it was making it harder to think, and he needed his head clear. He did not know if he was ready, for all his studies. He'd paid particular attention of late to any accounts he could find of the Warrior of Light's venture into the Void. He had not their fighting prowess, but he had spent years studying Voidsent. It was only a pity that his desperation left him in such a poor bargaining position.

The first warning Skala had was the sudden commotion from the office behind her. As she knew for a fact that Mr. Blackchain had no visitors in there, the inescapable conclusion was that something had gone very wrong. From the first sound of orcish voices, her hands moved to her hair, one hand grabbing the blow dart gun disguised as a hair stick and flicking off the cap, the other reaching for a cluster of darts coated in a sleeping poison. Her bun sagged from it's usual meticulously neat state, the stick having served a structural as well as ornamental purpose. The door burst open and an orc ran through, her mind taking note of his expression - panicked and distraught in equal measure - as he ran by her, and put two darts in the center of his back. He managed a few more stumbling steps, then fell heavily on his face.

A second orc, a few steps behind the first, came out of the door. This one's face bore a mix of fury and grief as he came, weapon raised. He would have run the first orc through, but Skala's voice snapped out "HOLD" in a tone of cold command. He froze instantly, than sheathed his sword and knelt before her. His actions confirmed her suspicion of what had happened in that office, in general terms if not specific, even before he began to speak. Genrik Blackchain, CEO of the Blackchain Company and grandfather of one Skala Blackchain, was dead. Killed, it seemed, by one of his own bodyguards. It was all on her now. It was all hers now.

"Ms. Blackchain" the orc began, in a tone of deep respect that she had only before heard directed at her grandfather. Three more orcs came thundering down the hallway, likely drawn by the commotion, but stopped a respectful distance from the scene before them, looking on in some confusion, followed by dawning comprehension. Genrik had never believed in having stupid minions. "The Blackchain is dead. Killed by... " he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Grief, real or feigned, choked his voice. "I am sorry, I couldn't stop him. I have failed." The three orcs at the entrance to the reception area came to attention, intoning "The Blackchain is dead. We Serve The Blackchain" in soft, shocked voices.

Skala came out from behind her desk and approached the kneeling orc. Her mind raced through possibilities and risk-benefit analysis, none of which showed on her face, which she held to a solemn, dignified expression. The situation was damnably complicated. It looked to be a case of a single bodyguard that had gone rogue. The conditioning appeared to be holding in the others, but was it truly? These were men who had been trained from the time they were small to present a carefully blank face no matter what they saw. That they were showing emotion now was no break of discipline, they were only required to use the "bodyguard face" when others were around, and Skala was no longer an "other." However, if this had been planned among them, those reactions may well be faked. Such acting was, perhaps, a different skill-set than hiding emotions, but she was not about to put it past their ability. However, if they were genuine, the fastest way to lose their loyalty was to show any sign that she didn't trust them. And she needed that loyalty if she could get it. No one knew more than her just how valuable these orcs were. And if Genrik had had any secrets from her... these orcs would know them. What's more, if they were conspiring against her, any sign of suspicion on her part might well push them to act now. And even with her dart gun in her hand and a dart loaded, the orc kneeling in front of her could likely break her neck before she could react.

There was nothing for it, she must act as though they were fully loyal and hope that she had the reflexes to survive if she was wrong. She first addressed the orc kneeling before her, expression still serene.

"You could not have seen this coming, One." The orc's shoulders straightened slightly, both from the lack of condemnation in her voice and the new promotion. Until that moment, he had been Two. The unconscious orc was now Unnamed. She turned next to the youngest of the three orcs at the door. The former Five.

"Four, I need you to get Lekky and bring him here as soon as possible." The orc saluted and ran off. I was possible that he would kill her son and run. Entirely possible, as she had no way to warn him of the unknown loyalty of her messenger. If Four instead brought him here as instructed... well, either way she would learn something important. Cold, certainly, but she wasn't entirely certain Lekky was suited to run the company after her anyway.

"Two and Three, take... this... down to level 5 and secure him to a table in one of the rooms. Make sure he is securely tied down and the fire is lit, then wait outside the room. Let no one enter but me." This too was a test of sorts. The orc did need to be questioned, but how well they carried out her orders would be informative. She watched them drag him off as her mind ticked through the possibilities. If he was dead when she got there, that would put extreme suspicion on the loyalty of the others. If he was insecurely bound - or not bound at all - she would very possibly die. Nothing for it though, it had to be done. But if they were loyal, there was no sense in having them listen to the traitor for an unknown period of time before she could get there. Hopefully he would still be out cold then, but she couldn't count on that.

"One, you are with me." Superfluous, perhaps, as they were the only two now left in the room, but these words carried a message. They said "I will not send you away, I will trust you to watch my back." Not an entirely true message at the moment, but vitally important if he could be trusted. A pity there was no way to keep him in front of her without showing that message to be a lie. She leaned back against her former desk and crossed her arms, wishing she had eyes in the back of her head, as One took up position behind her right shoulder. Ears straining for the slightest sound that might indicate betrayal, she waited for her son to arrive.

Some fifteen minutes later, Lekky did arrive, trailed closely by his voidwalker and at a more respectful distance by Four. Judging from his expression (and the degree of protectiveness in the hovering voidwalker - she wasn't sure how exactly he inspired loyalty in demons, of all things, but it was clear that he did) that Four had given him a summary of what he knew. Two points in his favor then. Encouraging. The near panic on Lekky's face was less encouraging. The boy had much to learn.

"Mom?" You'd never know he was nearly 18 from the way his voice squeaked in panic. "Fi... uh, Four says Mr. Blackchain's dead?" Genrik had never been one to encourage familiarity, even in family.

Skala nodded. "You are going to have to start taking more responsibility now." He seemed less than thrilled with the idea. Truth be told, she wasn't either, but whether or not he had the mind for it he was her heir. "To start with, I'll need you and Four to deal with Genrik's body and begin making funeral preparations. An unpleasant task, I know, but it has to be done and I have other things I have to take care of first. I will help you once I can." Exactly how unpleasant, she didn't know. She still hadn't looked in the office. Still, if he didn't have a strong stomach now, he'd better start growing one. She deliberately didn't call Genrik "Mr. Blackchain." He wasn't The Blackchain anymore. She was.

Lekky gulped and wrung his hands. She pretended not to notice. Four would steady him, and likely be able to point him in the right directions. And that, too, would tell her something. At least she wasn't worried about Lekky's safety anymore. His voidwalker was clearly on high alert. She walked out of the reception area without a backwards glance, heading for the stairs down. One maintained his bodyguard's position at her shoulder.