EMPIRE: Imperial Police

by Stephanie Osborn

  “What do you want me to do? I can’t possibly get through three big burly cops to get to him. Not alone.”

  “Follow him. You were planning on a little jaunt anyway, weren’t you? You were headed for the spaceport, so you should have all the luggage you need.” Kershaw paused. “I’ll see you get sent on your personal trip once we’ve eliminated Ashton.”

  “Yes, sir. Sure, I can do that.”

  “Good. Do it.”

  Mark Martin was half a dozen people in line behind Ashton, to board the shuttle that would take them all to the IIS Adannaya II.

  No one recognized him.

  Within hours of the departure of the IIS Adannaya II from Sintaran orbit, anyone to whom Martin would have reported – or who could have provided him with the personal trip he canceled to take this mission, assuming they had actually followed through with that promise – was dead. Emperor Trajan had ascended to power, and he had carried out his sister’s final decrees: to dissolve the Imperial Council and execute its councilmen and staff – save Saaret, who had remained loyal – and to execute the corrupt police officials in IPD Headquarters.

  But Martin had no way of finding out that critical bit of information. Not with the ship in hyperspace.

  It was a direct flight; all other stops occurred after Catalonia. Therefore, it would only take about two weeks.

  Nevertheless, Ashton decided to keep his head down for the time being. He stayed in his cabin the whole time, having food brought in and inspecting it carefully, while spending the rest of the time sleeping, reading, or looking up information on Catalonia in the ship’s virtual libraries. He would have liked to be able to talk with Cally, but with the ship in hyperspace, that wasn’t possible. So he sighed and went back to reading.

  Outside the locked cabin, Mark Martin wandered by several times a day, in increasing frustration.

  If anyone stopped him to ask, he was only, “…Stretching my legs.”

  “Yes, I know Peabody is a lieutenant colonel,” Peterson told Co-consul Saaret – formerly Council Head Saaret, but he was the only member of the Council who had remained true to the Throne, so Trajan had given him the opportunity to resign before sentence was pronounced on that body; being a wise man, he had taken it – in a full-immersion VR conference, “but I know someone who is a relatively recent retiree, who has considerably more years in with the Imperial Police than Peabody has, and never besmirched his badge, either.”

  They were speaking in response to a communiqué that Saaret had put out in the Imperial City Police Department; Maia Peterson had seen it and immediately responded, and the current meeting was the result.

  “So this is someone you trust?”

  “I’ve known him for years, and I trust him with my life, Consul Saaret,” she declared. “I trust him so much that I ended up marrying him about two weeks back.”

  “This sounds interesting,” Saaret said with a slight grin. “Tell me this story, please.”

  “Well, well, then,” Saaret said, at the end of the tale, which spanned several decades of service. “He does sound promising. And how many straight, honest young cops did he send to the ICPD, to get them out of harm’s way?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Peterson said, “but I know at least half a dozen of ‘em came through my Investigations division. I’d say over the years, a couple dozen, easy. Hell, we just sent one off-planet to keep him safe; did you hear about the attempted theft of the Empress’ Sigil? That was one of his kids.”

  “I did, in fact. Really? One of his kids? That’s excellent. And he himself was smart enough to play straight, and yet stay out of trouble with his superiors…”

  “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do all that and not be at least suspected, which is one of the main reasons he never got promoted above captain. But he was still my equivalent over his people, so they recognized the skills. He had the responsibility, if not the pay grade.”

  “One of the reasons. Do you know of others?”

  “I do,” Peterson averred. “Those young cops were his kids; I didn’t use that terminology lightly, or in jest. He looked out for ‘em. The only reason he didn’t take early retirement a lot sooner was so he could look out for ‘em. When the attempted Sigil theft went down, it just got too dangerous with nobody there to back him up, so he got out while he could.” Peterson paused, then snarled, “And the bastards still went after him.”

  “Aha. That’s important to know. All of that.”

  “It is, sir. And I think he’s in even better shape, because he’s out from behind that desk he was stuck at, and he’s maintained his certs with me.”

  “And you don’t have a problem with it?”

  “No, sir. I think it would be good for him, in a lot of ways.”

  “All right. Let me look into it, then.”

  When the IIS Adannaya II reached Catalonia, purely by luck of the draw Ashton debarked on an earlier shuttle than Martin, who scurried into the next shuttle, hoping to catch up to him in the spaceport.

  But when he reached the gate, Ashton was already departing in the company of General Kurt Walder, head of the Imperial Police for Catalonia Sector, and a small contingent of escort police.

  Well, at least I know where he’ll be working, Martin decided. I’ll keep an eye on things, see where he bunks, and sooner or later, I’ll take care of him. If I’m lucky, I’ll hook up with some of Kershaw’s people here. Which makes me think – now that I’m planetside, I need to report.

  He tried to use the QR system to link into Kershaw’s VR from Catalonia, but it was odd; he couldn’t raise anything on the other end. The comm tried to link, then there was… nothing.

  Eh. I’ll try again later, he thought with a mental shrug.

  “Wait – WHAT?!” Ashton exclaimed, as Walder finished explaining matters in his personal vehicle, while his driver took them to the IPD headquarters on Catalonia.

  “You heard me correctly, son,” Walder said. “The Empress named her brother, Major Robert Dunham, as her successor, and in response to the patently obvious attack by the Council on the Throne using the corrupt police at IPD Headquarters, he released her Imperial Decrees condemning both organizations – but not the IPD Sector Branches – and dissolving the Council. Then, using the plans and preparations that Empress Ilithyia II had set in place, he completely destroyed the Council building and the Headquarters building, then sent in troops, and ensured that every mother’s son and daughter of the lot was dead by lunchtime.”

  “Damnation,” Ashton said, astonished.

  They were silent for long moments.

  “Oh,” he said then. “But…so I should be able to go home now?”

  “Well, I talked to Maia and Lee about that,” Walder said. “They sort of want you to stay here for a few weeks, just in case. Look. Just because everybody who was at Headquarters got taken out – and frankly, and as between us, those of us who run the Imperial Police sectors were sick of those assholes, for a dozen reasons – it doesn’t mean that everybody who worked at Headquarters got taken out. Because some people would be off on assignment, and some would be on other planets couriering evidence, or on vacation, or whatever. It’s my understanding that they waited until the next shift showed up – often at a run – and took them out, too, at least if they weren’t willing to be taken into custody and investigated. I gather there were some, like you and your former boss, who tried their damnedest to walk a tightrope between staying alive and doing the right thing, and those guys will probably manage to make it okay. Probably even be the new staffers once they start trying to rebuild it right. But Lee, especially, just wasn’t sure how many of the damn snakes escaped the destruction of the snake pit. And he wants you out of the way of any pissed-off snakes.”

  “Aw.”

  “Hey, son, I’ve known those two a long time, and for Lee to take a shine to somebody like he did to you? That tells me a helluva lot about you. So stick close, because I gave ‘em my word to keep you safe, and damned if I won’t
do exactly that.” Walder looked at him sharply. “You’re somewhere between a new detective for my sector, and a protected witness of sorts.”

  “Oh…”

  Given the sector headquarters aspect of the precinct from which Walder operated, and the fact that some of the Imperial Police on Catalonia were transferred in from elsewhere, there was a kind of barracks annex to the building, allowing for single police officers to live within easy reach of their workplace. It was to this barracks annex that Walder assigned Ashton as living quarters; he sent several officers along with Ashton to carry his household goods – which Gorski & Co. had shipped with him – and deposit it in the studio apartment.

  “It’s not big, but you’ll be safe here,” Walder noted, as Ashton dropped his duffle on the bed. “As the sector governor has upped the ante on her political rhetoric lately, I’ve been upping my ante on security, as well. I have a bad feeling about that one, and I hope to hell the new Emperor knows about it. I’ve sent a few reports through, but given everything else…”

  “Mm,” Ashton hummed, thoughtful, as he recalled his few interactions with the former Imperial Guard Major Dunham, as well as what Stefan Gorski had told him of the man. “Somehow, I expect that, if he hasn’t already, he will soon.”

  “Yes, I expect you’re right, son,” Walder said. “Now, if you don’t mind unpacking later, I’d like to get you settled in the department, and see what we can do about getting you working. I’d also like to debrief you about the shit you saw on Sintar.”

  “Yes, sir. I don’t have a problem with that, sir.”

  When repeated attempts to raise Bill Kershaw failed, Martin started trying to hit up some of his other friends in the Imperial Police. When that failed as well, he began to worry that he’d been cut loose. Which would mean, he thought, I’m stuck here, since I spent all my credits on changing my ticket to get here.

  Discouraged, he headed to the nearest bar. Maybe I can at least find out what the local news channels are, he decided, while I get drunk. Thank God I have the credits in my pocket for that, at least. And I can see what’s going on back home, I guess. Maybe.

  He did indeed find out what the local news channels were in VR, and he ordered a double shot of whisky to begin the process of getting drunk.

  What he didn’t expect was finding out exactly what was going on “back home” on Sintar.

  Martin’s jaw dropped as he watched video of the destruction of the Imperial Council building, and the subsequent imagery of the burning pile of rubble, taken by drones overflying the site. But it was the video of the missiles hurtling down on Imperial Police Headquarters, followed by the Imperial Marines slaughtering most of those who escaped the rubble, that shocked him the most. General William Kershaw, who fought back fiercely, was killed point-blank on camera by one unit of Marines.

  They’re gone, he realized in horror. No wonder I couldn’t raise anybody! They’re all dead! Son of a bitch!

  And then it hit him.

  I really am stuck here! Damn that Dominick Ashton to twelve levels of hell!

  That night, Ashton unpacked his things in the little studio apartment. It was small, but was reasonably well furnished, with a bed, small sofa, armchair, desk, a separate bath, and a separate kitchenette. There was also a video screen built into the wall across from the bed, so he could lie in bed and watch VR entertainment if he wished. It wasn’t his apartment in Imperial City – which wasn’t fancy, anyway – but it would do, for now. And unlike the approach to that apartment, these quarters were apparently as safe as the Imperial Police sector headquarters, because they were part of the sector headquarters.

  So he checked in with Carter and Peterson to let them know he was safe, properly set in the sector headquarters, and settling in.

  “And you’re sure everything’s okay there?” Peterson asked.

  “Seems to be fine, as far as that goes,” Ashton said. “General Walder said that you two wanted me to hang out here for a while, though, just in case, to let things quiet down back there.”

  “Right, son,” Carter confirmed. “There’s a few Impies that seem to have gone underground, and we’re trying to sniff those out. Once that’s taken care of, we’ll work out with Kurt how and when to bring you back here, if that’s what you want to do by that time.”

  “Well, I still want to be where the action is,” Ashton noted, “because that’s where I can do the most good. But they had a little incident here recently – I’m still working on some of the details – but apparently there was a kook that had been listening to the sector governor a bit too much…”

  “What do you mean?” Peterson wondered.

  “If I’m understanding things right, the news media here is kind of anti-Sintar,” Ashton explained. “Well, anti-Throne, to be honest. And the sector governor, some woman named Renata Palomo de la Gallego – who, as between us, sounds like she’s got cooties in the cranium – just eggs on the media something awful. General Walder thinks she might have certain ambitions of her own.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Peterson decided.

  “No shit,” Carter agreed.

  “Anyhow, somebody got wound a little too tight on all of the political shit-talk, and decided to take out the Imperial Police,” Ashton continued. “He managed to make a bomb outta fertilizer and bunker fuel from the farms on the outskirts of Catalonia Ciudad, then he started sending threats to the cops. Walder sent out his top investigative sorts to see what was going down; when they figured out who this guy was, they rounded up a team and moved to apprehend him. Problem was, he built the bomb in his home. The damn thing took out him, the older residential building he lived in, almost all of the inhabitants who were at home at the time, half the beat cops who went along on the raid, and two-thirds of the entire detective force on the planet. Most of the rest of the detectives are in the hospital.”

  “Damn!” Carter exclaimed, as Peterson muttered curses in the background.

  “Yeah, alla that. Anyway, right now, all that’s left are his junior investigative staffers, all of which are a couple ranks below me – mostly relative newbies. Some of those are coming out of the beat cop division, but even so, they’re fairly green as investigators.”

  “So you’re the top investigator, Nick?” Peterson asked.

  “Sort of. For now, I guess.” Ashton shrugged in VR. “General Walder has requested some more temporary transfers, but what with the shit that went down in Imperial City, well…”

  “Yeah,” Carter agreed. “That ain’t happenin’ any time soon.”

  “Right. So he’s gonna be leaning on me kinda hard until that situation starts to resolve a little.”

  “It’s only good for your career,” Peterson pointed out. “A legitimate ‘chief investigator’ looks good on the résumé, regardless of the reason. Just be careful, Nick. Lee and I are starting to kinda feel like you’re our kid.”

  Ashton grinned.

  “And I appreciate that,” he said. “I know Mom and Dad would, too, ‘cause you’re looking out for me.”

  “Trying to, anyway,” Carter averred.

  “Well, it’s getting late here, and I still need to ping Cally, so lemme let y’all go for now,” Ashton decided. “I’ll try to keep you posted about anything of significance that happens here, and while it looks interesting, I’ll be glad to get back home to Imp City.”

  “Things heating up with Cally?” Peterson asked.

  “Hell, I dunno yet. It’s good, though. And, um,” he broke off, then admitted, “I miss her.”

  “Which is a good sign,” Carter claimed. “Okay, son, take care, and we’ll watch out for your Cally.”

  “Thanks, Lee,” Ashton said, and broke the link.

  Ashton promptly turned around and called Cally, allowing a heads-up notification in the call. She answered almost instantly.

  “Nick? Is that you?”

  “It’s me, Cal. I’m here on Catalonia.”

  “Oh, thank God! You’re all right?”

>   “I’m fine. How ‘bout you?”

  “I’m okay, I guess…”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “I miss you, Nick. I–”

  “You what?”

  “…Never mind. I’ll tell you when you come home. When are you coming back?”

  “I’m not sure yet, Cal. Maia and Lee want me to stay here and lay low a while, let things get settled out there a bit.”

  “Nick!”

  “I know, I know. But they do need me here, Cally. Lemme tell ya what I just told Lee and Maia…”

  Ten minutes later, Cally felt a little better about the situation, and Nick had crawled into bed to finish their conversation.

  “…Wow. That was bad,” she said. “Really big blast, huh?”

  “Yeah, it sounded like. And so they’re short-handed, and if this sector governor is as much trouble as what I picked up from General Walder, when you add in the change of rule back on Sintar, things could get interesting. And not in the good way.”

  “Why? What did the General say?”

  “It wasn’t so much what he said, as the way he said it…and what he didn’t say.”

  “Whu-oh.”

  “Yeah. So…” Ashton considered for a few moments, putting one bare arm behind his head and staring up at the darkened ceiling. “I watched a little bit of the local news an’ shit while I unpacked earlier, and I tried to line things up with what I picked up from Walder. If I was a betting man, I’d put money on the notion that something is gonna go down around the coronation of the new Emperor.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then maybe you could come home after that…”

  “I might be able to, yeah.”

  “Okay.”

  “But that’s gonna be a couple months. Are you good with that?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”