Zier folded his arms, having seen this coming from the moment he walked in. “Ah, yes, our eternal saviors, the Kurgorians.”
“They sure were at Kyma,” a voice spat from one of the lower sections.
Zier turned to see Pollux Vancent, the venerable and usually reserved minister of Revlin Province, stand from his seat. “Indeed, they were. Curious, though, how that timed out; wouldn’t you say, Minister Vancent? I mean, Kyma 4 is what? Sixteen, seventeen terasecs from the Rynzer Expanse, which is where the Kurgorians were allegedly stationed when Masterson made his call for help. And they cleared that in how long? Fifteen minutes? Feel free to correct my math on this, Minister, but even with C-100 power that still seems like quite the feat.”
Vancent snorted in disinterest. “All I know, Chancellor, is that because of those people, Revlin Province can go on supplying the vast majority of our fleet’s operations in the rim. So how about you regale us with your math skills on that.”
Another chorus of agreeable murmurs, but Zier stood his ground. “Brothers of the empire, heed my warning on this. No alliance comes without a price. Compromise, exchange, mutual sacrifice…these are the elements of such an arrangement. And yet the Kurgorians insist that they want nothing from us except a minor share of the Kendaran mine, when and if we seize it from the Aurans.”
“Perhaps that’s all they need,” said Minister Nesh of Thilmore Province. “They obviously don’t need our technology.”
“So why not take Kendara on their own?” Zier insisted. “Why do they need us? I tell you, gentlemen, something is not right here.”
“Enough!” Saul Doering marched to the stage.
Zier greeted the man with a scowl.
“Ministers and representatives of the empire,” Doering began. “Regardless of stance or provincial affiliation, I think we can all safely agree that we are, without question, losing our war with Aura. The commandant is right. We have talked enough, bartered enough, bickered enough! Now the time has come for action, and by gods I aim to see that we take it!”
Zier watched the pompous old fool glance to the cameras, as if holding his words in order to keep their attention—and thus the attention of their viewers—fixed squarely upon himself.
“According to Bylaw 152.9, subsection 36-B of the imperial charter, we, as this empire’s legislative branch, reserve the right to levy a vote of chancellery nullification should we see fit, and it’s that right I invoke here today.” Doering stood up tall and proud. “Gentlemen, as a nine-term member of this great body and a former commander in the Alystierian fleet, I hereby submit to you that Chancellor Lucius Zier has failed our people, and as such, should be removed from office. I also call for the immediate advancement of Commandant Alec Masterson to the chancellorship with all of the rights, privileges, and powers thereof in the hopes that, perhaps under his leadership, we might regain our footing in the conflict with Aura.”
The chamber stirred with approval, and Zier craned his neck to see Masterson’s face shift like clockwork into a look of stunned surprise.
“Second!” another minister shouted from the balcony.
“Very well,” Doering said. “A motion for nullification has been cast, and seconded. All in favor?”
Zier felt a wall of sound blow past him.
“Aye!”
“Opposed?”
Silence…and then a gavel.
“Guard!” Doering commanded. “Please remove Mr. Zier from these chambers, as civilians are not authorized to be here, and remand him into custody.”
Zier shook his arm free of a guard’s grasp then scowled into the nearest camera. “What I say now I say directly to the noble people of Alystier. Your leaders, myself included, have failed you this day. Even so, I call for your fervent prayers that my colleagues’ actions here are ultimately proven justified. For if they are not, and my intuitions are correct…then we are all in grave danger.”
* * *
Masterson watched with near glee as the guards hauled the former chancellor away for processing. He then halted his XO by the arm. “Make sure Mr. Zier is comfortable for his trip.”
“His trip, sir?” Briggs asked.
Masterson signaled an aide for a tablet, where he entered instructions before handing it to Briggs.
The XO’s eyes bulged. “Sir, are you sure about this?”
“Is there a problem, Captain?” Masterson asked with glacial ease.
Briggs blinked once more. “No, sir…No problem at all.”
“Good. Notify me when he’s been secured at Fort Donner then leave the rest to the guards. After that, I want you back on the Kamuir to begin coordinating with Pralah Kai-Ool of the Vanxus. Tell him we deploy, as planned, in two hours.”
“Deploy, sir?”
“That’s right. Deep-space reconnaissance has confirmed that the final remains of the ASC armada from Kyma are holed up in the Coralin System, undergoing repairs for a jump back to Aura—a jump, Captain, which I have no intention of letting them make. I want those people crushed, starting with the Praetorian. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, sir,” Briggs said from attention.
“Excellent,” Masterson said. Then seeing Doering at the ready for the impromptu installment ceremony, he concluded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I have a pressing matter to attend to, and I’d rather it not be delayed on account of a dead man. Dismissed.”
Briggs gave a bow, as was customary when acknowledging the chancellor, then darted out of sight.
Masterson strode to center stage and allowed himself to revel in the moment as an almost unanimous parliament leapt to its feet in thunderous ovation. He’d made it. After all of the years, and all of the planning, and all of the sacrifices…finally, Masterson had made it.
“Ministers of Alystier,” Doering announced.
The days ahead would be magnificent, Masterson thought, full of victory, and celebration, and the blood of his enemies.
“It is with enormous pride and distinction that I present to you…”
With the Kurgorians behind him, no one would stop him from restoring the empire to its former glory. Not Aura, not Zier, and not even the collective body of power before him—a body he’d see disbanded if they got in his way.
“The third chancellor of the Alystierian Empire…”
Clayton Zier’s son was only the beginning.
“Chancellor Alec Masterson.”
Soon they would all burn.
The chamber exploded in a swirling crescendo of applause. Meanwhile, Masterson—all but floating on air—took a long, exaggerated bow then gestured to the hall that he wanted to speak.
“Friends…brothers…countrymen!” Masterson slid on the golden ring and took hold of the chancellor’s saber. “There are no words to describe just how honored I am to be bestowed this incredible privilege…the privilege of leading you. For entirely too long, words—and mostly empty words at that—have been the hallmark of this office. But I tell you now, that ends today.” The new chancellor spun on his heels, his long, midnight cloak flowing behind him, and retrieved a document from his seat which he presented to the crowd. “I hold in my hand the Kurgorians’ projected timetable for retrofitting our fleet, the first phase of which is scheduled for completion by the end of the quarter. In the meantime, they’ve pledged an escort of at least four ships on every operation we plan moving forward. But that’s only if we sign our treaty with them.” Masterson’s expression became one of imploring. “Gentlemen, you have installed me to this most hallowed of positions because you want action, and that’s exactly what I am prepared to give you. However, in the wake of the Kyma 4, I think it’s fair to say that I can’t do that on our fleet’s status quo. The ASC has simply grown too strong, and we’re out of time to match their might on our own. Ratify this treaty, though, and you have my word that you’ll see an Alystierian flag over their capitol in two years’ time or less. So what say you?”
Another swell of applause.
Masterson rais
ed his hands to the sky in triumph, all the while relishing the knowledge that Katahl and his fleet were almost certainly watching this all unfold via the press. That’d been the point. The ASC needed to know that the beating they’d taken at Kyma 4 was only the beginning, and with his message now sent, Masterson meant to seal it with a mark so indelible that none of them would ever doubt the empire’s resolve again. This would not be well-received, he knew, certainly not by the Aurans and probably not even by his own people. He’d most likely be labeled a barbarian for it. But that was all right, so long as the barbarian was the last man standing when the war ended.
Masterson turned to the pair of guards at the exit beside the stage. “Bring her out.”
* * *
Danny glared at the monitor before him, hands clenched in a cold sweat on his cage bars as Alec Masterson gestured to the same pair of guards who’d taken Madisyn out earlier.
“Please don’t be her, please don’t be her, please don’t be her,” Danny rattled out in a thoughtless chant. “Please, dear God in Heaven, if you’re really up there, please, please don’t let it be her.”
But then, there she was…the lone daughter of Auran President Richard Wylon and the love of Danny’s life, standing gagged, beaten, and chained next to Alystier’s newest chancellor.
“You son of a bitch!” Danny slammed his fists on the bars and began screaming at the top of his lungs.
No one came.
“Brothers and sisters of Alystier,” Masterson said, his look one of gross euphoria that could’ve never been forced for political end. Rather, it was a chilling, skeletal smile…a twisted mask of pure, genuine evil, worn by a man who not only embraced what he was about to do, but reveled in its righteousness.
That was when Danny saw the blade. Please, no.
“Today is the day when our enemy ceases to hear us talk, and instead, feels our knife at his throat.”
Danny threw himself at his cage, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, as if somehow, some way that would keep it from happening. It couldn’t be happening. Over and over and over again, he did it, slamming his flesh to iron and never once letting up until finally, a loud, rippling crack in his shoulder sent him crumpling to one knee. “Come on, baby, be okay.” Tears streamed like rain down his face. “Be okay. Be okay. It’s not that deep. You’re okay.”
Only it was that deep, and she wasn’t okay.
Collapsing to the pavement, Danny watched the thin, pink line beneath Madisyn’s chin darken to a deep violet—her bright blue eyes dimming to glazed—then widen to a crimson gush over her porcelain skin and blouse.
In that moment, during which the air around him and time itself seemed to freeze, Daniel Tucker, lost in an inferno of rage, sorrow, and disbelief, curled into a ball and vanished into his subconscious. This wasn’t happening, he thought. It couldn’t be. This was all just a dream…it had to be. Surely they were in Finley Springs right now like they’d planned, she at her conference with her stuffy peers and he at a pool perusing groomsmen tuxes and bachelor party locations. That was how it was supposed to go, right? For Heaven’s sake, he had the ring!
But then, his girlfriend’s head lolled over, her thin, frail body falling limply to the stage, and it all shattered.
Danny felt his entire body go numb. Though in that instant, with the sweet release of insanity beckoning, he glanced up to see that old bastard corporal who’d left him the monitor grab Madisyn's corpse by the hair and drag her away.
Danny’s blood ignited.
“Men and women of the empire,” Masterson said. “Our civilization has lost its way in recent years…its identity. But I make this solemn vow to you: I, your chancellor, will restore that identity. Once upon a time, people feared us. They quaked at the site of our ships, knelt at the feet of our soldiers, because they knew without question that we would rather die than be denied our destiny. ‘Victory or death’ was the way of things.” He paused and stared straight into the camera. “People of Alystier, starting today…they will fear us again.”
“No, they won’t.” Danny rose to his feet and positioned himself at the bars to return his shoulder to its socket. “They’re not going to fear you, Chancellor, because no one fears a dead man. And have no illusions, you murderous piece of shit, that’s exactly what you are…a dead man.”
* * * * *
Part Three
Chapter 32: Delineation
“Admiral, we gotta go, now,” Lee said from a private office in the Kennox’s flight control room—Mac standing frazzled beside him.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Captain,” Katahl said over the comm, using Lee’s new field commission. “But right now, I’ve got a hundred and eleven ships out here, a third of which don’t even have FTL capability. Trust me, we’re moving as fast as we can!”
“Estimated time to sail?” Lee asked.
“None yet, no.”
“Sir, I ain’t tryin’ to pile on here, but you’ve gotta know that borders mean crap to Masterson now that he’s in charge. It’s only a matter of time before he comes after us, and if those Kurgorian things are with him when he does, sublight’s gonna be a colossal waste of time. Those ships will either jump with the rest of us or they’re dead. But a conventional sail’s out of the question.”
“Of that I’m well aware, since the Praetorian is one of them,” Katahl stated, forehead wrinkling. “I’ve commissioned a team of engineers to try and find us some alternatives, but right now sublight is all some of us have, and that’s that. If something changes, you’ll be among the first to know. But bear in mind that if Masterson does come, we might need our pilots to buy us some time for evac.”
Lee made a face that was anything but inspired, but he still knew the job. “We’ll be there, sir.”
“Admiral, sir?” Mac asked. “Have you by chance been in touch with President Wylon since…” She gulped, unable to finish. “Well, um…since?”
Katahl looked away. “Yeah, I talked to him.”
“And?” Mac asked.
“And he’s a father, Mac. So no, he’s not okay. But he’s also the commander-in-chief of the ASC fleet and a former soldier under my command, which is to say he’ll dig in hard and get through it, just like the rest of us who lost people today.”
Lee cringed. As Wylon’s former CO, Katahl had known Madisyn since she was a toddler. So it stood to reason that he’d be hurting over her loss as much as anyone, especially considering everything else that’d happened.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Mac shied away. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know you didn’t,” Katahl said, “and I apologize if I came across as harsh. But we’re all having a pretty rough morning.”
“Sir, I hate to even broach this, but I’ve got to,” Lee said. “Knowin’ that Madisyn made it off the Larrin before it blew does beg the question…did anyone else?”
“I know you’re wondering about Sergeant Tucker, Lee, and I sympathize. But his whereabouts, if he’s even alive, are nowhere near a priority right now.”
“I’m aware, Admiral,” Lee said. “Just promise me that when we get back to Aura, it cracks the list.”
“Done,” Katahl said. “Keep me posted on the Kennox’s progress, Captain. Praetorian out.”
Once the channel had disconnected, Mac slumped back against the comm terminal and rubbed her temples. “Heaven help us, Lee. That was Madisyn on the screen just now. Not some faceless grunt…Madisyn!”
“I know.” Lee took her hand. “Believe me, I know. But right now, I’m just tryin’ to stay focused on the positive, which is that Danny is still out there.”
“We don’t know that, Lee. Listen, I don’t wanna think the worst either, but consider this from the grays’ point of view. There were over three hundred people on the Larrin when they apparently boarded her, none of whom had any real significance that they knew of except Madisyn. To them, Danny was just another grunt staff sergeant which, if anything, made him a threat. So what’s the upside of taking him alon
g given the problems he could’ve caused if he’d gotten loose?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they thought he’d be leverage with Madisyn somehow. Who’s to say? I just know that until I see a body, I ain’t losin’ faith that our boy is still alive…because that’s what we do.”
Mac bowed her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just…trying to look at this thing from all angles, ya know?”
Lee leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I know, and that’s one of the things I love about ya, babe. You keep me grounded. But for now, I just need ya to hang in there with me, okay?”
She nodded but her expression stayed glum. “I just got off the horn with Katie before coming up here to meet you.”
“And?” Lee asked. “How’s Hamish?”
“Out of surgery, but nowhere close to being out of the woods. She said he’s in really bad shape, but she seemed pretty optimistic he’d eventually pull through.”
“And Wyatt?”
“Stable, but…”
Mac’s expression plummeted. “But what?”
“But apparently his leg got pretty torn up when everything went to hell in engineering…and they weren’t able to save it.”
Lee winced. As advanced as Auran medical science was, it still had its limits. And while Wyatt would inevitably be fitted with a biotech prosthetic that would serve most of his day-to-day needs, it went without saying that the chief would still have a long road ahead of him, both physically and emotionally. Lee had interviewed way too many vets as a history researcher back home to think otherwise. “We’ll be there for Kris in any way we can. But for now, let’s get this done so we can get back to Aura. After that, we’ll find out what’s next.”
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