Imperial Twilight

by Eric Thomson

  Wormholes One and Four pulsed with a malevolent red glow and two swarms of red icons appeared, one by each of the marked termini.

  “Of the first group, fifteen went FTL at once for Wormhole Two, which connects with Yotai, and fifteen of the second group headed for Wormhole Three, which connects with Ariel. The remaining forty ships jumped inward, aimed at Isabella itself.”

  Each of the red swarms in the holotank split in two.

  “Rear Admiral Manard’s escape routes were effectively cut off since the imperial units would reach Wormholes Two and Three before he could. With only fifteen ships in his task force, mostly frigates and light cruisers, the odds he could force his way through were next to nil. It left Manard with two options — flee through interstellar space under FTL drives in the hopes of reaching a friendly star system with a refueling station, or stand and fight. He chose to stand and fight.”

  A display came to life opposite the holo tank.

  “The aviso’s long-range video pickups took this in the moments before it crossed Wormhole Two’s event horizon and fled under enemy fire. The wreckage orbiting Isabella is what remains of Rear Admiral Manard’s task force, although he took an equal number of imperial ships down with him. As you can see from the flashes lighting up Isabella’s night side, the imperials are carrying out an eradication-level bombardment.”

  “Which we could have avoided if you’d pulled Manard back one wormhole junction and left Isabella as an open system, ostensibly no longer under Coalsack Sector control.” Marta modulated her voice to be soft and unemotional yet wrapped around a core of fiery hot anger no one could fail to notice.

  “Maybe.” Custis snapped. “We don’t know that, Highness. Besides, no one expected the imperials to return with almost three times as many ships in a single system.”

  “A feeble excuse to offer the hundreds of thousands who are dead by now or will soon die through starvation and disease.” Marta’s tone held all the warmth of interstellar space. “Our responsibility is stopping the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, not helping them through vainglorious strategic miscalculations.”

  Appalled silence greeted Marta’s declaration, then she heard Jacelyn Bram behind her murmur, “So I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hades followed with him.”

  Though neither Custis nor Zahar could make out Bram’s words, both gave her a poisonous glance before aiming wrath-filled eyes at Marta.

  “If we’re finished with Isabella, please tell me about the Mykonos system, Admiral,” she said, her voice once more soft and unemotional.

  Zahar cleared his throat before nodding.

  “Of course, Highness.”

  The holotank shimmered, and a schematic of Marta’s former home appeared.

  “It was much the same scenario, with imperial formations emerging unannounced from Wormholes Three and Four, this time in groups of thirty starships. Each split in half to block Wormholes One and Two, and trap Commodore Sekine’s Task Force. She also fought rather than attempt to escape FTL through interstellar space and risk running out of fuel before reaching a friendly harbor. Though she accounted for eleven enemy ships, the imperials destroyed all of hers and subjected Mykonos to orbital bombardment. If Your Highness wishes to see the video, I can put it on screen.”

  A new vision threatened to overcome Marta’s senses for a fraction of a second, though as on previous occasions, she retained nothing other than blurry impressions of horror and destruction.

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” She glanced around the room. “Would everyone other than Regent Custis and Admiral Zahar please leave?”

  A few of the senior officers glanced at their commander as they hesitated.

  “Now.”

  Marta’s voice struck them with the force of a class five ion storm. When they were alone, she studied Custis with a gaze that made him visibly uncomfortable.

  “Tell me, Devy, why am I here? You’ve frozen me out of decision-making fora since Admiral Zahar executed my lady-in-waiting because he has a superstitious fear of women who serve the Almighty. Why did you open yourself to the inevitability of my saying, in front of our most senior staff, I told you so?”

  Custis paused while he chose his words.

  “Events of such magnitude must be shared with you, lest people think you’re a mere figurehead, a puppet, and I the puppet master. Many wouldn’t look upon me as their ruler with equanimity. But I hoped you’d show more tact, Highness. Berating subordinates in the presence of others isn’t a hallmark of good leadership, as your uncle, the Marine Corps colonel surely mentioned.”

  “When those subordinates disregard my direction and precipitate the deaths of countless thousands, perhaps even millions, they give up the right to treatment commensurate with their status. Especially if the true reason for said disregard is to show everyone who’s the boss.”

  When Custis didn’t react to her barb, a worm of doubt nibbled at Marta’s certainty. After a pregnant pause, he smiled.

  “You might see it like that, Highness, but none of the officers and officials in the room did,” Custis replied in a calm voice while devilment danced in his eyes. “When you dismissed them, they left nurturing reservations about your fitness as our sovereign. A just empress doesn’t demean her regent and the commander of her armed forces in front of lesser beings. Imagine how they’ll feel after finding out you’re an Order of the Void witch in all but name?”

  “Meaning you found a better candidate to be figurehead empress and goaded me into what some would perceive as a show of unsuitability so you could more easily justify changing sovereigns midstream.”

  Custis’ smile took on a mocking edge.

  “Yes and no. Admiral Zahar’s intelligence operatives found the trail of Corinne Ruggero, who hopefully won’t have been tainted by the Void witches and I intend to follow up on their information. For the moment, you remain the chosen one, although this is your last war council. From now on, you will carry out only ceremonial and social duties, under my control. Publicly chastising your regent and military commander proved you shouldn’t be involved in serious matters of state and diminished whatever influence you might have wielded. Be a good puppet, my dear Marta, and let your regent run things.”

  “Was any of this,” she gestured toward the holotank, “real?”

  “Sadly, yes. The imperial forces surprised us at Isabella and Mykonos and inflicted heavy losses, but only because of an intelligence failure, not because of — what did you call it again?”

  “Vainglorious strategic miscalculations,” Zahar supplied, a cruel smile creasing his ascetic features. “As if you witches know anything about such matters. The day Regent Custis’ alternate choice for the throne lands on Yotai, I will make it my solemn duty to kill you myself, Highness. And I shall take great pleasure in doing so.”

  — 41 —

  When the briefing room’s door closed behind Marta, Admiral Zahar pushed away from the table, stood, and rolled his shoulders to release some of the accumulated tension.

  “In retrospect, I wonder whether provoking her wasn’t premature, Your Grace.”

  “The moment was perfect, Admiral. She showed herself to be another potential Dendera in front of our senior staff and aides. I would have been remiss in letting it pass after your discovery she’d been hiding a Sister of the Void as her companion. Who knows what mischief they were causing behind our backs? It was time to end the pretense.”

  “Perhaps, sir, but we merely have evidence from my recon team proving the 197th Imperial Battle Group, along with Tanith, reached Lyonesse where they revived the prisoners. My operatives brought no proof Corinne Ruggero was alive and well.”

  Custis shrugged irritably.

  “Your people weren’t able to account for everyone, yet when I left Tanith with my family, every single stasis pod was functional, except those whose destruction I ordered. She’s somewhere on Lyonesse. Didn’t y
ou say they sent Tanith’s complement of common criminals to penal facilities, including one modeled on Parth’s Desolation Island? If Corinne traveled as one of the latter, they might have released her under an assumed identity.

  “Or better yet, they put her aboard under another noblewoman’s name, and she’s now living as her. No matter. Corinne is on Lyonesse. Your task force commander needn’t be gentle with those separatists. They turn Corinne over or their nonsensical knowledge vault is history. That should motivate a monomaniac like this Jonas Morane who seems to believe we’re doomed.”

  Zahar walked over to a sideboard and poured himself a glass of water.

  “Maybe we should abandon the idea of a new empire instead, Your Grace, and break with a troubled past by making the Coalsack Sector into a republic. Then, you wouldn’t need an empress, and I wouldn’t be forced to send a badly needed naval formation five wormhole transits beyond our sphere just as the Retribution Fleet is starting a new campaign against us.”

  Custis scoffed. “A republic does not need a regent to work in the sovereign’s shadow and any attempt to make myself first citizen for life would end badly. Besides, the people know nothing other than living under a constitutional monarchy and would rightly view a return to something like the despised Commonwealth’s corrupt system with distaste. As for the Retribution Fleet, I can’t see them coming back any time soon, not after the bloody nose we gave them. And as a bonus, we no longer need to station forces in the Isabella and Mykonos systems, since they’re no longer of value.”

  Zahar drained his glass to hide a grimace of disgust at Custis casually brushing away those deaths. If Marta Norum weren’t a Void witch under the skin, she would make a better ruler than the cold, ambitious grand duke. At least Norum understood there was more to governing than slaking one’s lust for power.

  “I want your expeditionary force on its way within the next seventy-two hours. They’re to bring me Corinne Ruggero or incontrovertible proof of her death.”

  “As you command, Your Grace.”

  **

  Once back in her apartments, Marta shrugged off her formal tunic and donned one of Heloise’s black cloaks under Lieutenant Colonel Bram’s curious eyes.

  “Take me to Founder’s Park, Jacelyn.”

  “I’ll need a bit of time to arrange for an escort, Madame.”

  “No escort. I need to escape the palace’s stifling atmosphere and breathe clean air for a few hours.” She turned a wan smile on the Marine. “In fact, if you arrange for a car, I’ll go alone, and you can do whatever aides do when they’re not dancing attendance on their principals.”

  “Going without an escort might pass, but it could cost me my commission if I didn’t at least accompany you whenever you leave the palace.”

  “After the dressing down I gave Regent Custis and Admiral Zahar?” Marta chuckled. “I’m sure neither would mind if I fell victim to a deadly accident that can’t be traced back to them. Custis seems to have concluded I’m more of a liability than an asset.”

  “I’m sure that’s not the case, Madame.”

  “You didn’t hear the words we exchanged after I tossed the staffers out, Jacelyn. I think it’s safe to say I no longer have any friends around here.” Marta’s hand unconsciously reached for the beacon nestled against her skin. “Perhaps I should leave the palace and vanish.”

  “Please don’t force me to resign my commission, Madame.”

  “Why in Heaven’s name should you do that if I went walkabout?”

  “Because the regent would never forgive my losing track of you. Alternatively, if I accompanied you on this walkabout, I’d be absent without leave, and that is the same as resigning my commission.”

  Marta locked eyes with the older woman.

  “Which of the two is your preferred course of action? Letting me go or accompanying me?”

  Bram hesitated.

  “If those are my only options, then I would go with you, Madame.” A pause. “For what it’s worth, I think you were right in telling Custis and Zahar what they needed to hear. Too many innocents died for nothing more than stupid politics. And it looks like plenty more will die before this is over...”

  Her voice faded as she looked away. After a moment of silence, she said, “I had friends in both the Mykonos and Isabella task forces. Now they’re gone, and for what?”

  “Vainglorious strategic miscalculations.”

  A snort of laughter broke through Bram’s solemn countenance.

  “That was priceless. I’ve never seen so many flag officers look like someone pissed into their two hundred creds a bottle twenty-year-old Glen Arcturus.”

  “So I noticed. Tell me, how is it you can quote the verse about Death on his pale horse?”

  “Quasi-eidetic memory. I received my early education in a priory-sponsored school on Zenia’s World. If you’ve never heard of the place, then I’m not surprised. Zee-Dub, as we called it, didn’t even qualify as a class one colony. The monastics provided us with much of our schooling and medical care. Since I was already a voracious reader at age nine, the friars and sisters gave me access to their library. I tore through every one of humanity’s foundational books, among other classical works, before turning sixteen.”

  “Would I be correct in guessing your superiors, Admiral Zahar included, know nothing about your childhood? Because I can’t see him appointing someone tainted by what he calls Void witches as my aide-de-camp, even if it was decades ago.”

  “You would, Madame. The details aren’t in my personal file since I’m not a product of the Imperial Armed Services Academy. I enlisted as a private and made my way up the ranks. The Corps doesn’t care about a mustang’s pedigree, only how suited he or she is to become an officer. Pedigrees are for prospective Academy cadets, the fancier, the better. But unlike most of them,” Bram put on a tentative smile, “I can quote every verse describing the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. And I’m with you in that respect, Madame. They’re riding a deadly trail across the galaxy these days, and we shouldn’t be helping them by being stupid.”

  Marta saw no falsehood hiding behind Bram’s dark, guileless eyes and felt strangely heartened.

  “You are an unexpected treasure, Jacelyn.”

  “I’ve been called many things, Madame, but treasure isn’t one of them, and I won’t tell you what the others were.” The faint but unmistakable blush of embarrassment creeping up Bram’s cheeks made her seem much younger. “With your permission, I’ll arrange for a car and perhaps change into civilian clothes. My uniform will attract too much unwanted attention in Founder’s Park. Or anywhere else. I’m the only officer in this star system wearing aide-de-camp braid on her right shoulder.”

  “Go.”

  **

  Founder’s Park was a hundred square kilometers of primeval Yotai forest and meadows along the Iriskaya River south of Lena, a short drive from the palace and almost directly under the Lena spaceport’s main approach corridor. In other words, it was ideal for a quick, clandestine pickup by a shuttle from one of Galactic Dawn’s armed merchant vessels.

  Now she’d burned most of her bridges, Marta felt an urgent need to scout out possible landing sites under the guise of craving for fresh air, in case her talisman unexpectedly gave off a signal only an adept could sense. Whether a rescue ship would cross this system before Zahar carried out his threat was another matter altogether. But the Almighty would not bring her to this point only so she could die from a knife thrust into her heart.

  “No problems about my leaving the palace without an escort?” Marta asked as she climbed into the unmarked staff car.

  “Not a single raised eyebrow, Madame.”

  At Bram’s gesture, the passenger door slid shut, cocooning them in a hull strong enough to ward off small arms fire.

  “Perhaps word is already getting around that I’m a dead woman walking.”

  Bram glanced up from the controls as they took the ramp leading out of the und
erground garage.

  “Or someone who shouldn’t be crossed. Zahar and the regent don’t enjoy universal respect, even among senior officers. And yes, I swept the car for surveillance devices, Madame. We can speak freely.”

  “You’re one of those senior officers, aren’t you, Jacelyn.”

  “I am. Zahar’s actions turned many of us against the rebellion, but by then, it was too late. We saw how Dendera’s supporters died and didn’t want to join them. Not that she’s any better. What’s the old saying? Stuck between a rock and a hard place?”

  The car rode up on its thrusters, changing from a ground vehicle into an aircraft.

  “That would be the one. Truth is, it was too late when Stichus Ruggero threw away over eight hundred years of precedent and crowned himself emperor. Nothing we do will change the course of history. We can only try to preserve bits of it so that our species doesn’t vanish from the face of the galaxy.”

  “A depressing thought. Where in the park should I land?”

  “How about a few overflights so I can see what tickles my fancy.”

  Bram gave Marta a curious glance.

  “As you wish.”

  — 42 —

  Lyonesse

  “Excellency, Admiral Morane and Chancellor Reyes.” Wickham Sanford, Governor Yakin’s secretary stepped aside and ushered them into her private day room.

  She stood as they entered and offered her hand.

  “Thank you for coming. I felt it would be better to discuss this new development in person rather than over a comlink. Please sit.” She looked up at Sanford. “You can have the tea service brought in now. After that, I’m unavailable short of an extinction-level crisis.”

  “Yes, Madame. The tea is ready.”

  He made a hand gesture, and one of Government House’s service droids trundled in, carrying a tray with three cups and a pot. It placed the tea service on the center table and, its mission completed, the droid left the room. Sanford followed it out and closed the doors behind him.