I decided that the sooner I had these people in the throne room, the sooner I could take their, no doubt false and meaningless oaths, and so much the better. It was better because while I was prepared to fully admit they probably didn’t intend to give me any actual loyalty, I didn’t care.
Once a man swore service to me, be it as his Admiral or now as his King, he was mine. And I was ready, willing and able to reward or punish him as the case may be.
The flipside of my willingness to die in the service of humanity was that I actually took things like oaths and service seriously. Maybe I was the only one who still did so, but a man had to live by a code. Even—or perhaps especially—a man with the last name Montagne.
Dark thoughts running through my head, I followed the Privy Council into a room that was decidedly not the Throne Room.
“What is this?” I asked, surveying the large and well-accoutered receiving room with a skeptical eye. Moments later, a large group of additional officials walked into the room.
In addition to the High Chancellor and his group, there was what looked like a full delegation of royal and parliamentary governmental officials as well as the top Army 4 Star General, Lancer Marshal, Marine Commandant and just for kicks and giggles, the most junior officer in the room, one General Wainwright upgraded from a brigade to a division command and finally, the oh-so-friendly face of the top SDF Admiral in the star system.
In other words, I’d been sandbagged.
“Prince Jason, I’m sorry for the necessary deception but in light of recent events, and by that I am not at all referring to the latest… difficulties…that you had reaching the surface... But in light of these things, the men and women in this room have a number of, questions, that it would be best were answered before things proceed any further,” the High Chancellor said smoothly.
I put my hands on my hips and surveyed the room.
“Clearly, you and I have a difference of opinion when it comes to following instructions or at least making it clear that you can’t or won’t, but sure. Let me hear your concerns,” I said with a thin smile.
“First, our Treasury Minister would like to verify the funds and amounts you are bringing to help your homeworld out of the dire straits we all find it in,” the High Chancellor said firmly.
“Well unless you intend to shuttle him up to the treasure fleet to inspect things, I don’t see how we’re going to finish that anytime soon,” I said.
“Surely, you have sufficient bearer bonds and other forms of hard currency, enough to make your end of the payment?” asked the Minister in surprise.
I gave the unassuming-looking man a dismissive look.
“Look, paying for the Caprian Crown doesn’t come cheap,” I said, chopping my hand down and then making a sweeping gesture as if to move the rest of that consideration to the side, “and if you think Tracto or MSP is rich enough to have those sorts of amounts on hand, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Then how exactly are you intending to cover your shortfall?” the Minister asked pointedly.
I gave him a flat look.
“I have ten billion in actual credits and bearer bonds and that should be more than enough to tide the government over. You can cover any emergency payments or shortfalls with it. The rest of the payment is in the form of trillium,” I said.
The Treasury Minister looked at me cautiously.
“I would have thought you’d have more credits on hand,” he said frankly.
I bared my teeth.
“Looking the gift horse in the mouth, Minister?” I asked calmly.
“It’s just that while we expected some trillium of course, we were expecting more credits. Something of the order of 50 or 100 billion,” he admitted. “This changes some of our calculations, there being only so much trillium even a system government can release into the market at once without devaluing the very material we need to sell.”
“Considering we were effectively trade-embargoed almost as soon as the ink was dry and old Confederation sources of starship fuel were available on the open market again, I’d think you’d be less surprised,” I said.
The men and women around the room shared a few uneasy glances.
“There is of course the black market,” the Treasury Minister said delicately.
“If this is some kind of shakedown so that you can get more trillium, think again,” I said, feeling my temper rise, “I’ve brought what was agreed upon and that’s all there is.”
“We just needed to be sure you had the funds to save the planet from an economic collapse, that’s all,” said the High Chancellor.
“Well, now you know. Send up a team of auditors if you don’t trust my word,” I said.
“Trust the word of a Montagne, ha!” muttered a woman that looked like a Parliamentary Member if ever I’d seen one.
I gave her a penetrating look.
“I’d have said trust the word of your King, but if you lot insist on haggling over the crown like a crowd of market sharpers, by all means, let’s haggle,” I said and no longer waiting to be offered a seat, I stepped up to the table and pulled out a chair.
“Please, all of you have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the table as if I owned it, everything in this room, including the chairs and the rest of the Palace besides. Considering I was here to be crowned King, that wasn’t that far off the mark.
“This is preposterous,” exclaimed the Lancer Marshal, “not since the early days of the Kingdom has a group like this gathered in the Palace to literally sell off the throne to the highest bidder. For shame!”
“There are reasons we needed to-” started the High Chancellor.
“I perfectly don’t mind. So long as all the arrangements have been made to transfer the Fleet’s secondary orbital annex to me, you can question me all you like. After all, I have nothing to hide. You asked me to pay good money for the crown and in the interest of seeing that our people do not suffer for the crimes of James Vekna and the failures of this Council, I felt I had no choice but to pay your ransom,” I said, happy to throw oil on the fire.
The Lancer Marshal’s face turned red and the SDF Admiral’s face turned so stiff, I was afraid it might break into pieces at the slightest movement.
Meanwhile, the High Chancellor glared at me while the female PM silently fumed.
Looking back and forth between us, General Wainwright decided to take action for the first time and cleared his throat loudly.
“Admiral Montagne, if I may be so bold, it is good to see you again, all things considered,” he said, stepping forward and forcing a smile.
“It’s always good to see another member of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet, General,” I said with a genuine smile and then gestured to a chair, indicating he should sit.
Wainwright paused and then shook his head.
“I’m afraid I must decline,” he said regretfully, apparently unwilling to sit while his superiors were still standing, “and I remember my time under your command fondly…,” he waited a beat, “even if I have returned to Caprian service and am no longer under your command.”
“A technicality that will soon be rendered moot by our very actions here, General. Because once I’m King, you’ll be back in my service, yes?” I grinned.
Wainwright took a deep breath.
“As you say, Admiral,” he demurred, “I was wondering if you intended to stay here permanently or if you’ll be splitting your time between Capria and Tracto?” he asked.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I’d say that has yet to be determined,” I said, deflecting the question.
“Oh?” the High Chancellor said, voice laden with emotion but the SDF Admiral was more interested in concerns of his own.
“I’m more interested in just how many foreign warships our new ‘King’,” his mouth twisted, “is going to station in our star system and if he’ll be a kind of monarch that rules or one that just reigns.”
“Well I gu
ess that’s all up to you all here,” I said.
The Admiral, mouth open for another verbal attack, stopped in sudden surprise.
“What did you just say?” he asked.
“I said that whether I rule this star system or just reign is up to you and the Privy Council,” I said uncaringly, or at least that’s what I wanted them to think.
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” General Tilday said with amusement, looking at me as if sharing some kind of secret joke.
I gave him a cold, quelling glance before looking back at the SDF Admiral.
“Maybe that’s because when a Royal opens his mouth, he tends to be lying, as our late King James has so amply proven and I can’t imagine anything except that that goes double for a scion of House Montagne,” the PM said snidely.
Tilday flushed and turned to the PM.
Faces on all sides of the room now glared at one another, Privy Council against Privy Council, SDF Officers against my people and the MSP against everyone else.
The angry tableau was suddenly broken by a loud chortle.
“Not so late is he, your young King James,” Spalding snorted.
“What did you say?!” demanded the PM, face flushing.
Spalding gave the female PM the beady one eye.
“I said that you must not have much of an imagination if you can’t imagine this Montagne doing what he says he’ll do. Oh and your King, James Vekna, is far from dead, young Missy Esteemed Parliamentary Member,” Spalding said witheringly.
“Why, you old reprobate. He’s no King of mine!” the PM angrily shouted back.
“Well, of the two of us I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who didn’t bend a knee to the man,” Spalding said, his jaw jutting belligerently.
“You’re a fool, and an old fool at that, and considering I haven’t been called a miss for more than a decade…” sneered the PM.
“Common blasted courtesy may have gone out the door with the last election, but considering you’re young enough to be my daughter, if not my granddaughter, and your new King is too good natured to call you on your rashness, it falls on the older generation to set you straight… as usual,” Spalding deadpanned, “I guess I should have expected no better from a politician. My fault, and I deeply apologize for complimenting this loyal follower of King James!”
“I think that’s quite enough,” started the High Chancellor, only to be interrupted by the raised voice of the PM.
“I can fight my own battles, Richard,” the PM snapped to the Chancellor.
She then turned back to Spalding.
“How dare you question my patriotism with unfounded allegations of loyalty to that mass-murdering tyrant King James,” she said venomously.
“Since you’re doing your former King a good turn here today by questioning the word of a man like Prince Jason, I don’t see how it’s so farfetched,” Spalding said skeptically while I just sat back and watched the show with a faint smile on my face, “especially considering he’s got to be the next best thing to the reincarnation of Larry One, as any fool can see from how he trounced the droids and ran the Empire out of town, and not once but three times, young Miss!”
I could see the increasingly skeptical looks headed Spalding’s way as he continued to extol my supposed virtues.
“You! Are. Insane!” she yelled.
“Takes one to know one,” Spalding fired back.
“So, you admit it,” she said flabbergasted but quickly rallied.
It was time to take back control of this conversation before it degenerated further.
“Let me be clear,” I said, raising my voice to cut through the confusion, “I am here to help my homeworld in any way that I can. At the same time for those doubters among you, I’m not running a charity. I expect to get full value from my investment in our mutual home. If, after our people are no longer under threat and the account books are square, both literally and figuratively, then you and the rest of the planet are free to revert to some form of, let’s call it, home rule. That’s fine with me as I expect to have more than sufficient concerns outside of this star system to keep me busy.”
“Why does all this sound so… unlikely,” challenged the PM after a momentary pause to pick the right word.
“Woman!” Spalding started to rumble.
I lifted a hand and he fell suddenly silent.
“Maybe because I have no interest in facing constant attacks by outraged lancer battalions equipped with power armor?” I said, unable to keep a hint of mockery out of my voice.
“You’d turn over your power and leave? Just like that?” the High Chancellor asked dubiously while several of what I assumed were the former royal faction looked increasingly alarmed.
“A King’s duty is the protection of the Star Kingdom, both as Commander-in-Chief of this Star System’s military and through the Foreign Ministry,” I said evenly, “I’m more than willing to busy myself dabbling with trade, diplomacy and the system defense force.”
“Trade?” one of the SDF Admirals asked sharply.
“Yes,” I met his eyes flatly and then continued in a light tone, “I intend to sell a lot of trillium through the Caprian Star System now that our home world is linked to Tracto by a crown marriage.”
“Thus evading the tariff imposed on your Star System by the Confederation Government,” the Treasury Minister said shrewdly.
General Tilday’s eyes flashed.
“And potentially dragging us into Tracto’s troubles with the rest of the Confederation,” he pointed out.
“I believe everyone here was well aware of the baggage my reign would come with already, General,” I said blandly.
Tilday shook his head and the SDF Admiral was looking near mutinous by the time the High Chancellor raised his hands.
“Come, come; let us not question our new sovereign and his—” the Chancellor’s mouth turned down grimly as he glanced over at Spalding, “men in such a fashion. As our new King quite rightly points out, we did indeed know his long and storied past before we sought to offer him the throne. Nothing has changed since that time. True, we had a few reasonable concerns, only to be expected after—”
“High Chancellor, I must protest,” interrupted the SDF Admiral.
“Admiral Belmont, this is neither the time nor the place,” the High Chancellor said grimly.
“The blazes it’s not. This is exactly the time and place, Chancellor,” flared the Admiral.
“I’m sure all your concerns will be laid to rest in good time,” soothed the Chancellor but the SDF Admiral was having none of it.
“Don’t give me the smooth sale, Richard. Save it for the rubes and new-minted Parliamentary Members who don’t know you as well as I do,” growled the Admiral.
I cleared my throat.
Both men turned to look at me.
“Since the Admiral’s issues seem to be with myself, why don’t I be the one to attempt to deal with them?” I said, flashing a patented royal smile.
If anything, this caused Admiral Belmont’s expression to curdle further but a helpless expression from the High Chancellor as he stepped back forced the other man to turn to me.
“What exactly seems to be the problem, Admiral? Please speak; I am all ears,” I said.
“Frankly, and with all due respect, you don’t have the slightest clue what it takes to keep this Star System running, your Highness,” he said flatly.
“No but I do know exactly what it needs to keep our people from being eaten by the truckload, Admiral. Which is why I propose sticking to those things I happen to have direct experience with,” I said cocking my head, “so what exactly are your real concerns?”
The grimace that crossed Admiral Belmont’s face might have charitably been called a smile by someone less biased than myself… but I doubt it.
“That’s just it. We’ve just seen the back of one bad King. A Vekna King, but still a bad one. Now we’re to ask the people to accep
t a Montagne on the throne? We’ll have riots in the streets and it wouldn’t surprise me if I’m forced to call out the Marines and kill a goodly number of otherwise loyal spacers. All because the ‘Privy Council’ in its doubtful wisdom decided it was a sweet idea to offer you the crown,” said the Admiral with a hard glint in his eye.
“So, it’s that same old saw. He’s a Montagne, he has to go, is that it?” I asked calmly.
“You could be the second coming of King Larry,” he said, shooting a derisive look Spalding’s way, “and it wouldn’t matter. Things here are shaky enough as it is. I’m not looking to have to space any of my spacers or put down any riots because you felt it was your time to put things right and a lot of stupid people overreacted.”
“Then I guess you have a dilemma to solve. The equation is simple, Admiral. Are more people going to die because I leave or because I stay?” I observed. There was no point trying to force anyone; all that would do was cause them to bide their time and try to get rid of me when I was least expecting it. Not that my good intentions would necessarily stop anyone, but I was hopeful that by being an open and honest operator, it would cut down on the numbers at least.
I was hopelessly optimistic, but there you go. I lived to be disappointed.
The SDF Admiral looked frustrated beyond measure.
“If King James hadn’t stepped off with the better part of the fleet, leaving us bankrupt, none of this would be necessary. You wouldn’t be necessary. As it is, if the bugs never come then what? A lot of good men will have died for nothing,” he said angrily.
“If wishes were horses, we’d all ride instead of walk. Save your fury for the bugs. Better the Montagne you know than the bug Swarm you don’t, I always say,” I said.
For a moment, I thought he was about to explode and then he barked out a laugh.
“No need to be so glib. Of course, you’d say that, wouldn’t you,” he said.
“What can I tell you? I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think my presence would be a net positive,” I asked with a smile.
He eyed me skeptically as if seeing me for the first time and not the image of me he’d built up before now.
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