Behind the Empress, against the back wall of the council chamber, two Palace Guards stood silently. Spaced evenly around the room were another four of the burly, kilted men.
The Empress cleared her throat. "It appears, Sisters, that our niece Hecate has met with an accident in space. It is necessary to choose a replacement for her on the Council."
Deinomache, her eyes still reddened by tears, objected. "Sister, it's been only six weeks. Surely we can give her more time."
Empress Hippolyta sniffed. "We will give her no more time. The Navy has searched thoroughly. Much debris from her ship has been found. It seems her fusion reactor exploded. Princess Hecate is declared dead."
With a bang, the door to the Council room slammed open. Princess-Captain Hecate Andromache Aronte stood in the door, in her hand the Imperial Sword - the sword passed down for generations of the Aronte dynasty, and which could only be removed from its mount in the Palace for one purpose. A gasp escaped her mother, Deinomache. Other than that, dead silence held the paralyzed Council members in thrall as Hecate stalked to the Council table, the sword held before her, upright in both hands, in the time-honored tradition of a challenge to the death. Stepping up behind her empty chair, she reversed the sword and slammed it down point-first into the thick wood, with a 'thunk' that shook the entire table. There it stood, vibrating, as she glared at Hippolyta.
“I accuse the Empress of treason,” she said, “and demand satisfaction.”
***
Stunned, the members of the Imperial Council stared at Princess Hecate as she stood behind her empty chair, the sword still vibrating in the wood of the heavy council table.
With a shriek, Empress Hippolyta waved at the Palace Guards behind her: "Arrest her! She dares bring a weapon into the Council! Arrest her!"
The Guards made no move, other than a slight nod from the Captain to Hecate.
"I'm afraid your Guards will not be helping you today, Hippolyta," said Hecate. "It appears those loyal to your murder cult have disappeared."
Across the table, Hippolyta's supporter, Areximacha, snarled at Hecate: "How dare you! What is the meaning of this outrage?"
Hecate smiled a little cat smile at Areximacha. "I have here..." Hecate tossed a data cube on the table..."complete evidence that Empress Hippolyta and Princess Kantilla killed my father, Prince Alexander, and laid an ambush for me to assure my death as well."
The sudden intake of breath around the table was audible.
Hecate pressed on. "As you know, the murder of a Prince of the Blood, and the attempted murder of a Princess of the Blood, are both treason under the Imperial code. Thus, I may challenge for a fight to the death."
Hecate reached out and slapped the sword handle, sending it back into vibration against the table. She glared at Empress Hippolyta, still sitting in shock at the head of the table. "I so challenge."
Areximacha stuttered, "But...but...that cannot apply to the Empress!"
Hecate jerked the lone empty chair away from the table, knocking it over backwards, stepped forward and slammed her hand against the wooden surface.
She hissed to Areximacha, "I can easily handle two challenges today, Areximacha! Do you want to go get your sword as well?"
Areximacha froze, suddenly silent. Beside Hecate, her mother Deinomache placed a calming hand on Hecate's back. Hecate turned to the Empress, and spat, "I have the evidence on those cubes, Hippolyta. It has been reviewed by CNO Maya Aronte and members of her staff. It has been reviewed by the Captain of the Palace Guard. They realize you have played them for fools. You'll get no more help from the Navy. And no help from the Palace Guard. It's just you and me, Hippolyta. Go get your sword."
Hippolyta seemed to diminish in size, and looked away from Hecate, toward the Palace Guardsmen lining the wall. All stared at her in silence, their faces cast in stone, their eyes bitter. Hecate was well loved in the Palace, and Hippolyta began to realize the futility of help from that quarter. She gazed around the Council table, at the noble women who had been her loyal supporters. Some seemed to be fascinated by the glittering sword, still swaying slightly in the table. Some looked down at the table. None looked back at her.
"I see." said Hippolyta. "I doubt I could stand against you, Hecate, for more than a few seconds. I see no point in fulfilling the challenge. What do you want?"
Hecate glared at her. "You will accept exile. Or you will die. The choice is yours."
Hippolyta sat silent for a matter of seconds, her face still. Then she spoke, her eyes staring blankly at the other end of the table. "I accept exile." Tiredly, slowly, she removed her tiara and placed it on the table in front of her.
“So be it, Hippolyta,” breathed Hecate. “But first, you will tell me why. Why did you kill my father? Why try to kill me?”
Hippolyta looked at Hecate with fury in her eyes, and then at Deinomache. She practically spat as she answered, “Because you have polluted blood! You have Earther blood! I had to kill the rumors, destroy any chance that you or your Mother could ever take the throne! You know why!”
Deinomache gasped beside Hecate. Hecate looked at Hippolyta stonily. “How do you know that?” she asked.
Hippolyta shook her head. “I’ve always known it; I overheard my mother, Antiope, talking to Zeno about it once when I was a child.” She gestured to Deinomache. “Ask her! She knows it too!”
Hecate glanced at her mother, Deinomache. Her head was lowered, staring at the table. At that moment, Hecate knew it was true. Deinomache raised her head slowly and looked at Hecate.
“I’m sorry, daughter. I always intended to tell you. But I should have told you sooner.”
Hecate gestured to the Captain of the Guard at the back wall, who had heard everything. He marched forward.
"The Empress has abdicated the throne, Captain Pramis. She wishes to go into exile. Find a suitable planet for her, far away from Aeolis, and take her there. Now. Today. She can spend an hour packing and then begone with her. And take her back-stabbing daughter with her." Hecate wheeled on Princess Kantilla. "Unless you want to go get your sword, Kantilla!"
Kantilla bowed her head meekly and got to her feet to follow her mother.
Captain Pramis bowed deeply. "It shall be done, Princess." Gently, he touched Hippolyta's elbow. Hippolyta rose slowly to her feet. She looked at Hecate.
"In spite of it all, Hecate, you...I see now you are a true Aronte. A fierce and worthy warrior. I’m sorry."
Hecate turned her back to Hippolyta and ignored her as Captain Pramis escorted Hippolyta and Kantilla out of the room. When the door had closed behind them, Hecate turned back to the table. She let her gaze sweep around the assembled council for a moment, then stepped around to retrieve the Imperial Tiara from the head of the table. She returned to stand behind her mother and made to place the Tiara on Deinomache’s head, but before she could do so, Deinomache turned, grabbed her arm, and stood.
Hecate paused, confused. "Mother? You are next in line for the throne. You are our new Empress."
Deinomache shook her head. "I am too old, and too settled in my ways, to take on a new job now," she said. "This is a job for younger blood than mine. I refuse the crown."
Gasps went around the table as realization settled in for the council members. Hecate looked puzzled. "Mother! Please...you must do this!"
"No, Hecate." said Deinomache firmly. "I refuse the crown."
From the end of the table, Hecate's friend Xanthippe spoke firmly.
"Long live Empress Hecate."
***
Hecate held the Tiara in her hand. It was the symbol of the Empress of the Aeolian Empire, and the person who wore it was the absolute ruler of that Empire. And now she stood before the Imperial Council, next in line for the throne.
“No!” exclaimed Hecate. “I’m a Naval Officer! I belong in the Navy!”
Her friend Xanthippe spoke quietly. “Hecate. Look at who is next in line.”
Hecate looked around the table. She realized that after her, Ar
eximacha was next in line of succession. Areximacha – Hippolyta’s strongest ally, and Hecate’s worst enemy. It dawned on Hecate that if she refused the throne, Areximacha would make sure neither Hecate or her mother Deinomache survived the day, and Hippolyta would be back in power by the morning. Hundreds, if not thousands, of Hecate’s friends and allies would die in the bloodbath. Every one of the Palace Guardsmen who stood in the room with her now. Her cousin, Maya. Her friend, Xanthippe, who had defended her in this room. Every member of her crew on the Nemesis.
Slowly she realized this was not something she could avoid. Her life as a starship captain was over.
Quietly, slowly, she walked back to the head of the table and laid the Tiara down again.
“First, I must speak,” she said. “As you just heard from Hippolyta’s lips, the Earther legend is true. Our ancestors came here three thousand years ago from another planet called Earth, just as the legend states. This week, I encountered people from that planet. I have met them. I have spoken to them. I assure you they are real, and they are our relatives.”
Hecate gestured toward her mother, Deinomache. “And also, as Hippolyta said, my grandmother Antiope took a man to husband, Zeno. It turns out that Zeno was from Earth. Therefore, my mother is one-half Earther. And I am one-fourth.”
Hecate looked around the table. “If I take this crown, understand that I intend to reconcile with the people of Earth. We have a common enemy; an alien race called the Bats. They are advancing on both Earth and us; if they discover us before we are ready, they will destroy us completely. Only by joining forces with the rest of our human family can we survive this threat. Therefore, by taking this crown, I not only accept the leadership of our Empire, but I also accept the responsibility of joining the separate halves of humanity back into a common family.”
Once more Hecate swept her gaze around the table. Then she quite deliberately returned her stare to Areximacha, holding her eyes on her.
“I am willing to begin by forgiving all past wrongs of those at this table; but let me assure you that future wrongs will not be so easily forgiven. Any attempt to undermine my rule, to prevent joining our Empire with our lost relatives, or to interfere with any other steps I take to assure our future, will be met with unconditional destruction. Do I make myself crystal clear?”
One by one, the Council members around the table nodded, starting with Hecate’s mother, Deinomache, until only Areximacha remained. Hecate stared at her, and somehow, without moving her gaze at all, managed to bring the still glittering sword sunk into the top of the council table into the moment passing between them.
Areximacha nodded, silently.
Hecate reached down and picked up the Tiara. She held it in her hand while her mother came around the council table to stand behind her. Hecate bowed her head and began a whispered prayer. Deinomache took the Tiara from her and slowly placed it on Hecate’s head, adjusting it in place. Hecate completed her prayer and then slowly sank down into the throne at the head of the table.
“Now we will pray together. For my father. For the souls of the people on the ships that were destroyed. And for the Empress of our Empire to have wisdom, compassion and justice in her actions.”
Party of God
Ostracization – the Rim Federation policy of withholding all defensive, technological and logistical support from a colony which fails to follow the Basic Rules of Responsible Government. This policy was established in 2124 by the RDF Colony Office in their initial Responsible Government model. Ostracization includes:
The RDF will not defend the colony if it is attacked.
All technology beyond that of the early 20th century, Earth is withdrawn from the colony. No fission or fusion reactors, spacecraft, or other advances from later than Earth, 1900 are permitted.
No deep-space communications are permitted, e.g. no QE boxes.
Any person who voluntarily lands on the planet will remain. Accidental landings will be rescued.
- RimWiki, 2675 Edition
6 Light Years Beyond HD 38858 - Empty Space
12 October 2188 - 67 Years after Pandora
Commodore James Lafferty Cobb, RDF, looked at the repeater holotank in his day cabin, which showed a corvette approaching. Cobb rubbed his chin, thinking, then queried his MEMSAI.
Cobb leaned back in his chair, contemplating his visitor. Lorna Pesculi - Lady Lorna Pesculi, as she liked to call herself, especially since some "evidence" had recently been discovered of her "noble" heritage - was the Senior Mistress of Hanoverian Prime Minister Gustav Blucher. And Gustav Blucher was the leader of the Party of God, the ultra-religious party that took over Hanover four years ago. The Saints, as they were generally known, had dismembered the parliamentary government of Hanover, instituting a reign of terror that included forced re-education camps which killed "heretics" - basically, anyone who disagreed with them - by the thousands. More recently, in 2186, huge taxes imposed on the citizenry for "religious requirements" - i.e. building secret warships - had triggered a tax rebellion, resulting in another 20,000 killed before Blucher and his junta had put it down. Blucher and Pesculi together were two very dangerous people.
And Cobb liked dangerous people. Because James Lafferty Cobb was a very dangerous person himself. Few knew it - Cobb was a master at blending in, working the system, and sliding his way to the top without suspicion. It was a miracle Cobb had made it through the rigorous screening of the RDF that identified and removed fanatics of any kind - religious or otherwise - but no system was perfect, and Cobb had a secret advantage. He was a complete sociopath. When he told a lie, it was the truth to him. No machine or AI could detect it. And when it came to emotion - he had none. Or almost none. Only one emotion drove Cobb - the desire to be on top.
It was this hidden drive, to control and to be at the top, that had made Cobb decide to take this meeting. It was a dangerous meeting. Even the whiff of contact with Pesculi would be enough to discredit him, have him recalled to Tolleson Base and interrogated, screened, cashiered back to Earth.
Cobb was one of the few North American Alliance Earthers who had advanced to senior rank in the RDF Officer Corps. The NAA – the recently merged right wing governments of the old United States, Canada and Mexico - produced too many fanatics for the RDF's taste; any NAA citizen who applied to the RDF was thoroughly screened, by both human and AI testers. Although thousands of them had passed the screening and were part of the RDF, they remained a minority. Even fewer were in the Officer Corps. In the entire RDF, there were only a couple of hundred NAA natives at the rank of Commander or above.
And worse, Cobb was charged with enforcing the Hanover Ostracization. When the Saints had taken over Hanover and dismissed the Parliament, instituting a religious theocracy, the RimFed Basic Rules kicked in. Hanover was immediately ostracized - isolated from the rest of RimFed. No starships were allowed in or out. All QE boxes on the planet were remotely disabled by the RDF. Any communication or contact with Hanover was illegal.
And Cobb, as the Commander of the Tau Ceti sector including Hanover, was responsible for enforcing the blockade. The Ostracization had been in place since mid-2184 now. Very few attempts to run the blockade were made; and Cobb caught all of them. There was no better position to be in, as far as Cobb was concerned. Because he had built a well-concealed underground economy of smuggling to and from Hanover, on the very warships charged with enforcing the embargo, and he didn't take kindly to competition.
But now his chief silent partner, Gustav Blucher, had sent Pesculi to see him. Cobb didn't like it. He had never trusted Blucher. There was no telling what the bastard wanted.
His MEMSAI pinged.
The door opened, and Lorna Pesculi walked in. She wa
s a beautiful woman, to be sure. Cobb could see that. But she wore too much makeup and was covered in furs that had cost a small fortune - so many that he could only just make out the color of the dress beneath. She wore an elegant hat, like something from the early years of the 20th century on Earth - which was pretty much where Hanoverian society was locked.
"Lady Pesculi," Cobb greeted her, bowing to almost-kiss her hand, in the Hanoverian fashion.
"Commodore Cobb," Pesculi said, in a voice that surprised him. It was throaty, husky and intelligent. He waved to a chair.
"Please, sit and be comfortable. Would you like some tea?" The door opened, and his aide came in, with a tea tray.
"Yes, that would be excellent, Commodore," said Pesculi, removing her hat to reveal a perfectly coiffed head, her hair strewn with pearls and diamonds.
Cobb sat in front of her as his aide poured the tea and departed. "Please, call me James," he said. "No need for formalities between friends. How was your trip?"
Sipping her tea, Pesculi frowned. "Very uncomfortable. But I understand the need for discretion. Still, two days to get out of the gravity well on a conventional shuttle and then another day on a tiny corvette to meet you here is not my idea of a fun time."
"My apologies, Lady Pesculi. But the need for discretion is uttermost. Even the slightest hint that I'm not enforcing the embargo would cause my instant recall and dismissal from the RDF. And the next commander might not be so understanding of your position on Hanover. It would be a long, cold dry spell."
Pesculi nodded. "I understand."
Cobb took his tea, then cocked his head at Pesculi. "So, how can I help you, Lady Pesculi?"
Pesculi sat her tea down and looked at him. Then she smiled. "We're going to take over the RDF and RimFed, Commodore Cobb. And we'd like you to be the new head of the RDF. Chief of Naval Operations, Fleet Admiral James Lafferty Cobb...how does that sound?"
Imprint of War Page 7