“I guess you didn’t know. Like I said, not sure how true the story is. President Godin’s response was diplomatic, but she very quickly made it clear such an action would not be tolerated, and ‘any invasion force would find our military strength much stronger than expected’, to quote her exact words” Marcus says, quieter this time.
“I don’t understand. I’ve not heard anything about invasions. Why are you telling me?” Nemmy asks.
“That pad has more information on it. I don’t know about invasions, but I do know about Confederation plans. I think your Admirals might be…surprised by how aggressive some of our leaders are” Marcus says. She can’t hide her shock, as Marcus smiles and nods in understanding. The Confederation is often derided not just for the intermingling of humans and aliens, but mostly for being considered a soft touch. Even the admin staff at Sector HQ knew all the jokes. This idea, that they may be gearing up militarily, would almost certainly shock most of the Imperium, Nemmy has no doubt. Invasion plans from the Imperium, on the other hand, she’d had not even an inkling of such a thing, but she knows there are people who want to control all of humanity under one banner. This could potentially go very bad, very quickly.
“Are you…allowed to tell me about this?” she asks.
“Technically, no, this is breaking our naval code of conduct. So, I can’t tell you everything I know, but I can tell you that I don’t want a war. I’m sure you don’t either. If the Imperium does invade our space, countless millions of people will die in a long and bloody fight” Marcus replies, with an unusually sombre tone.
“I think you over-estimate your capability, Ship-Master,” someone says. They both whip round to find a blue-uniformed woman, standing a few feet away, sipping a blue drink out of a long flute. Nemmy leaps out of her chair, cracking her knee off the table in the process.
“What are you doing here?” she shouts.
“Watching you, of course” the SIO responds calmly. She points to a confused Marcus. “Would you like to introduce me to your friend?” she says in a friendly voice, but the look on her face confirms that she knows exactly who Marcus is.
“Nemmy, who is-“
“Don’t say anything. Just leave, now,” Nemmy interrupts, turning away and moving quickly to the exit. She resists the temptation to check the datapad Marcus gave her. If the SIO heard even some of the conversation, she could be in serious trouble and even her mother might struggle to protect her. Without even looking back to check, as soon as she exits the bistro, she sprints through the milling passers-by towards her ship. An apology to Marcus will need to wait.
Arriving near the Boomslang’s main docking door, Nemmy stops for a few moments to suck in air and fan herself, as well as rubbing off the sweat coating her face. She double checks the datapad hidden inside her shirt. The SIOs cannot find out about this, she decides. Dismissing the stifling heat, she fastens up her uniform properly to the neck before entering the ship. Before she even steps onto the deck, shouting can be heard from various voices. Nemmy rushes in, looking around to see the trouble. She swiftly finds it. A group of various crew members are angrily gesticulating around a handful of SIOs. The group appears to be mostly Shipmates, the younger trainees obviously not used to the violation of an SIO visit. Alonso is straining to hold Emily back, as another couple of Shipmates, Ivanova and Sanchez, are waving their arms frantically. Amira and Ravaan arrive at the scene just as she does.
“What’s going on now?” Nemmy asks anyone. More and more crew members pour into the bay, each as angry as the last. The SIOs start to group together in a circle.
“These perverts are going through our clothes!” Emily shouts. A few other crew members share similar angry yells.
“We are only doing our jobs” one of the SIO responds calmly. Emily swings a hand, and only a last-second wrench back by Alonso stops her walloping the nearest SIO in the face.
“Get them off the ship” someone else shouts. Roars of agreement follow. Kerry appears in front of Nemmy, her face wet with tears.
“Captain, they are going through all our personal effects, our private comms, everything! We haven’t done anything wrong!” she pleads. Nemmy can’t really say anything to reassure her, but she pats her on the arm.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she says. Angela emerges, trying to calm down some of the officers, and is roughly barged to the floor by a large SIO for her trouble. From nowhere Lynsey appears, slamming the larger man against the bay wall and seizing him by the throat.
“Touch my wife again, and I’ll cut your heart out” she snarls. A few SIOs muscle in and separate the pair.
“If you would all just comply, we would finish quickly and be on our way,” another SIO says. This only angers the crew further, and even the naturally polite Sabir emerges from the crowd to bellow in the SIO’s face.
“Enough! Everyone settle down” Eliah bellows, appearing from the far side of the bay. “We will be leaving now” he announces with a smug grin. The noise dies down quickly as everyone ceases their activity to watch Eliah stride across the deck.
“That’s quick, is it not?” Amira asks. Eliah nods.
“Yes, but I have what I need. Officers, please detain Shipmate Emily Maxwell on suspicion of treason” he says. Everyone freezes for a moment, as the SIOs instantly wrest Emily away from the group and restrain her.
“What?!?! Why? I’m not a traitor, you idiot!” she rages. Eliah’s grin grows wider, as he waggles a datapad.
“Lots of unregistered comms on here, Shipmate. Secret messages outside your shift times. Anything you want to say?” he asks glibly. Emily for once stays silent for several moments. Her eyes flit around the eerily quiet bay.
“That’s a private matter” she eventually replies, turning her gaze to the deck. Eliah chortles.
“We’ll see about that when you are at our facility,” he says, his grin disappearing. Emily and everyone else catch the meaning. She panics and starts thrashing about. One of the SIOs clubs her on the back of the head and immediately has his nose broken by Amira, stepping into the melee.
“Alright, let’s all settle down now,” Eliah says, drawing his pistol. Amira stands defiantly over the fallen SIO, snorting at his pained wailing, but she eventually steps back. Ravaan, however, steps forward.
“I will not tolerate assaults on crew members by your collection of thugs,” he says darkly. Eliah rolls his head back as he dismisses Ravaan’s anger with a chuckle.
“Come now, Commander. We’re doing our jobs, just like you” he says, before leaning into Ravaan’s space, “and remember, I’ve read your logs as well. Perhaps a family visit would be in order?” he quips. Ravaan’s eyes go wide, and he backs away, tilting his head down. Eliah taps his chest.
“Remember, I’m a Le Beau. In this Sector, we make the decisions. You would be wise to heed that advice. Isn’t that right Nem?” Eliah jokes. He misses, or chooses not to notice, the hateful look Nemmy gives him in response.
A groan draws everyone’s attention. Emily shakes herself awake, but her eyes fill with tears immediately as she looks imploringly around the shuttle bay.
“Someone, help me! Please?” she squeaks, desperately hoping to make eye contact with someone. Nemmy observes the other crew members, all shuffling awkwardly and staring at their feet.
“Alonso?” Emily whispers. Alonso looks at her, with sad eyes, before averting his gaze. The SIOs, having lost patience, bodily haul her away from the group. She goes quietly without a struggle, sagging as she is all but dragged across the deck.
“Eliah, what is going on? I mean the actual truth. What’s going to happen to Emily?” Nemmy suddenly asks. Eliah appears to contemplate his answer, before holstering his pistol and motioning her away from earshot of the crew.
“Come on Nem, you must know. She’ll be interrogated, her files examined properly, all her logs, transactions, everything. Then we’ll go to a
nalysing friends, lovers, associates, family and so on before we go to samples” he says.
“Samples!?!” Nemmy asks loudly, drawing various eyes to the conversation.
“Obviously. We need to rule out alien influence, hidden technology, and so on. It’s either dissection or life imprisonment after all” Eliah explains with all the calmness of ordering breakfast. The concept is utterly horrifying to Nemmy. Nausea clutches at her stomach. Unable to contain her anger, she slaps Eliah’s face as hard as she possibly can.
“Get off my ship. Now” She barks. For a moment, Eliah looks to strike back, but he regains his cool composure and gestures to his officers.
“Be careful, Captain. Let’s go. We have what we need” He orders, and the rest of his people silently stride out of the shuttle bay. Nemmy closes the shuttle bay doors behind them.
“Everyone, just go back to your quarters, relax for an hour or two. It’s over now” she says. The sombre, confused faces look around at each other before they all shuffle away to lick their wounds. Only when everyone leaves does Nemmy become aware of her pulse pounding her eardrums. Suddenly feeling shaky, she sits back against the bay door, sucking in a breath. Emily…
She isn’t the most popular crew member, clearly. But she’s still part of the crew, and Nemmy will find a way to help her, no matter what the cost. She won’t believe that Emily is a traitor. She strains to pull herself to her feet. Emily doesn’t have a lot of time.
Eliah glances back at the cell footage. Shipmate Maxwell remains curled up on the bunk, with nothing else to do in the sparsely designed cell. She has been stuck in there for the whole trip, a deliberate SIO practice. Military personnel often need to be softened up before interrogation. Although in this case, Eliah feels that it’s slightly cruel, the pretence must be maintained. He leaves the security room of the transport ship and heads for the meeting room. Taking a last glance over his datapad, he enters the room. At the head of the semi-circle fixed table in the otherwise blank white room, his father sits with his hands clasped. On either side of him sit SIO top-level directors. Filling the rest of the dozen chairs are various Regents and a couple of Admirals.
“We’ve been sitting on this cramped little ship of yours for nearly a full day, son. I hope you have something interesting for us” Rayne says. Eliah smiles.
“Of course. The intel was accurate. There is a direct link to the Confederation we can access, this Ship-master Williams. He appears to trust my sister implicitly, to the point of openly socialising with her. There’s definitely an avenue there” he says.
“Assuming your sister isn’t working for them, of course”, one of the Admirals pipes up. Eliah strokes his cheek. The redness has only just died down.
“Nem is a lot of things, but she’s not a traitor, Sir” Eliah replies.
“She seems very fond of this Red, wouldn’t you say?” the Admiral quips.
“She is NOT a traitor” Eliah repeats angrily. Rayne stands up, tapping the desk.
“Let’s not get into arguments here. What’s important here is that we’ve confirmed access to a Confederate officer. I’m sure my daughter would be willing to help us with this matter. Direct, up to the second intel on defence, fleet movements, economic policy updates, everything we need. Your mother will be most pleased, Eliah” Rayne says.
“Does she know about this?” Eliah asks.
“I decided to wait until we had confirmed access” Rayne confirms. Both the Admirals struggle to stifle amusement. Eliah understands, flashing his smile again.
“Not telling her doesn’t mean she doesn’t know. What should I do with the Shipmate?” he asks. Rayne looks to the others in the room but receives only a series of shrugs in return.
“She’s not relevant, is she? Let your staff decide” Rayne replies with a dismissive flick of his hand. He dims the lights and points to a projection.
“Now, let me go over the first suggested plan…”
Embrace Sanctum
Your all-purpose guide to the Centre of the Universe!
Here we are again! Tessa speaking, and since the first edition proved to be extremely popular, we’ve been given the go-ahead to make this a regular series. Both business and leisure traffic to Sanctum has increased by almost 20% in the past year, so there are plenty of newcomers to welcome!
We’ve had an interesting few weeks, with both the President of the United Confederation of Free People and His Most Glorious Majesty, the Emperor of the Human Imperium making state visits. Unfortunately, you’ll always get extremists trying to cause trouble, but thankfully our fine security staff were able to resolve the issue. Seeing all those ships from my office was a particular highlight, and of course, I’m looking forward to Victoria’s next ship spotting section.
There were a few responses from Imperial citizens regarding our previous story accusing us of what they felt was undue bias against the Imperium. Victoria, with her usual grace and wisdom, has decided to respond with a fascinating tale about one of the Imperium’s most interesting rulers. I’m sure everyone, including the more historically minded amongst our Confederation readers, will find it an enjoyable view into the past.
Whilst I have some fun stuff for you later, for now, it’s over to the lovely Vic!
Just To Watch The World Burn
By Victoria Kihoro
The Human Imperium has a long history of distinctive rulers, men, and women of vision, steel, charisma, capable of both compassion and viciousness when required. They must possess a litany of attributes to handle the singularly unique position of being the sole leader of countless billions of humans. The occupation can naturally lead to astonishing narcissism or perhaps draw in the narcissistic types in the first place. It also can appeal to the benevolent, those who wish to use that colossal power to change lives for the better.
There are many amongst the Confederation and the various independent bodies, that do not grasp why any person would wish to live under a supreme ruler, who is above the law, answerable to no one and nothing but their own whims. Literally, any wish an Emperor has can become instant law, regardless of how strange or dangerous it could be. An Emperor could start a war during breakfast, or even theoretically dissolve the Imperium itself.
There are several reasons why it is happily accepted amongst the people that do, not least of which is the non-hereditary passing of the position, meaning theoretically any Imperial citizen can be granted the right to eventually replace the incumbent ruler. Each Emperor lists any number of heirs they wish in order of preference and hands the list to a council of Regents and top-level military officers, who must collectively reveal the information upon the Emperor’s death or abdication. The overall pomp and circumstance surrounding the human leader is always impressive, lavish parties, endless generosity to the adoring citizens. But I must admit, my personal interest in the concept has always been piqued by the naming conventions to which all Emperors adhere.
The long-standing traditions of the Imperium allow any Emperor to decide both their own title and their own honorifics. Some of the more distinctive examples include The Astonishing Leader, Emperor Ronald, who of course gave his name to the modern Imperial currency. Another fascinating example of the increasing divergence between Imperial and non-Imperial humanity all those years ago was Idris Macallo, the first Emperor to adopt this practice, announcing that he should henceforth be known as The Glorious Master, Emperor Idrallo.
Amongst all those myriad leaders of fame and ill-repute, one lady in particular towers above them all in my assessment. Born Ellie Vicini exactly 128 years ago on the luxurious orbital colony of Golden Fields in the Greden system, hers was a life of wealth and affluence from her first moments. She lived a stress-free and relatively normal life up until her teenage years. Dismissing the carefully laid out career path her parents had chosen for her, she decided to spend several years and an obscene amount of Rons travelling away from the Imperial C
entre and across the various fringe systems around the entire Imperium. She even made her way out to our station, long before Sanctum was as grandiose as it is now. This vagabond existence gave her several years experiencing the culture of the Imperium, as well as feeling the entirety of Imperial day to day life.
So far, nothing out of the ordinary for the absent-minded, adventurous, and admittedly slightly pampered children of wealthy upper-class individuals. Ellie, however, had decided that simply touring the Imperium wasn’t enough. She wanted to rule it. In an astonishing display of hubris, in the same week as she earned a starring role in one of the more risqué VC shows of the day, despite having no prior acting credits, she publicly announced that she was planning to become Empress one day. The public reaction was one of shock, anger, and in many sections, utter revulsion. Of course, the position of Emperor is granted by the previous incumbent, so such an open display of desire was unheard of at the time. Even now, no one would openly state their wish to replace the Emperor. It could technically be considered treason, after all, to suggest that you will replace the current leader. No matter to Ellie, she was adamant. In fact, she compounded the situation by openly admitting to seducing the programme directors to get the spot on her show, Rembrandt Of Time. All five of them.
As the show went on, more and salacious stories of her sexual prowess on set were released to the public. Male and female co-stars alike fell to her charms, month after month. Perhaps these stories were released by angry co-workers jealous of a sexually powerful woman using that sexuality to boost her career. Perhaps, instead by people hoping to damage her public image. It was even suggested by some that she herself leaked the info, revealing her disregard for other opinions and conceivably even showing off her ability to live life her own way. Despite, or indeed because of, the utterly astonishing level of both graphic detail and wild imagination involved in these stories, Ellie drew the attention of the ruling Emperor himself, The Heroic One, Emperor Rogico. A man of impeccable taste and refinement, blessed with easy-going charm and a deceptively powerful intellect. And yet, as with so many powerful men, he had a weakness for alluring women. He dismissed the perpetual cadre of lovers that accumulates around the position and personally invited Ellie to travel aboard his pleasure cruiser. Within a week of her moving into living quarters, she had been named Imperial Heir, next in line to rule the Imperium.
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