Shadow of Prometheus, Part 1: The Rise of Achenaran Hegemony

[Holeypaladin]

Imperial Mandate

Emerald Palace, Achenar IV
(Author's note: When writing as the Achenaran Emperor, I will use first person perspective, as his highly introverted, contemplative nature is best described from the first person. This is the only character I will write in this manner.)

"My Emperor." It was a message I heard not through my ears, but through my brain. Most messages were like that, with all the continuous advancements in technology, neural induction communication in this case. I gave and received most of my messages through an artificial organ, grown inside my head and linked directly to my brain through neural induction. This device, among the latest in hyperlink technologies, was a state-of-the-art version pioneered by my scheduled guest for the evening. Speaking of scheduled guests, that's probably what the message was about.

"Yes, Gunther?" I responded wordlessly, thinking my thoughts through the hyperlink to reach the hyperlink of my Imperial Guard Captain, who had been the one addressing me. "Is the bioroid here?"

"Affirmitive, My Emperor," responded Gunther. "She has requested an audience. Shall I escort her in?"

"You can just send her in and keep attending to your duties. This one won't assassinate me, and if she tries... well, I think I can handle one little woman, don't you agree?" I was understating her threat level. I couldn't think of a more dangerous "little woman" in the galaxy. And I knew some very, very dangerous people.

"I... as you wish, My Emperor. If you need me, I'll be nearby." I liked Gunther. He did what he was told. And he did it without question. But he always made allowances for contingencies. I couldn't think of a better Imperial Guard in all of Achenar. That's why he was Captain, after all.

A few minutes later, the doors to the throne room opened, and a solid ten walked in. I couldn't really describe her to you, mostly because I suck horribly at descriptions, but I'll say that she was short, perfectly shaped, and hot. Entirely too hot to be a real Achenaran. Because she wasn't.

Her name was Anne Marlin. She used to be a ship's AI, and kept the traditional surname of the ship she was an AI of, as was customary when naming AI's. But she was no ordinary AI. You see, we aren't stupid. We don't put fully volitional artificial intelligence organisms in our warships, or in civilian ships, or in any ship. In fact, the programming of fully volitional AI's was very, very illegal in Achenar, because a volitional AI can decide they don't like being bossed around by us organics, and stage a rebellion. And they have the capacity to win such a rebellion, or at least deal the Imperial Armada a heavy enough blow as to be severely weakened, to the extent of encouraging other rebellions to occur throughout the Imperium. Better to nip that problem in the bud, don't you think?

Anyway, I digress. Back to this Anne girl. She was named after the Marlin, a privateer cruiser that I had confiscated a few years back. With her ship gone, she decided to use the dang Chrysalis machine, an advanced biotech "medical" device obtained through technology exchange with Suria, to grow an organic platform for herself, complete with a quantum neural net computer for a brain, to house her AI software. Of course, she had modeled the body after her holographic avatar, which was modeled after... Violet Valentine, I think. The former queen of Wirus, who was known as the Queen of Beauty back in her prime. But the avatar was designed without flaws, so her self-grown body was also flawless. I felt bad for organic women, who really couldn't compare without their own augments.

The bioroid made her entrance with a graceful walk. Too graceful. She knelt before me, as was customary when addressing the Emperor. From my angle, I could see up her dress. She wore pink underwear. I pretended I didn't see. She pretended she wasn't showing me. It worked out great. But I didn't make her kneel for long, as I knew she would prefer not to show me, but didn't prefer it enough to wear something "ungraceful" for the occasion.

"You may rise," I said to the woman. She did so, before giving a brief curtsy. "Hello, Anne. How is your privateer?"

"He is well, My Emperor," said the bioroid in her sweet voice. The kind that was meant to address the crew of a starship. You know what I mean. "James is grateful for his new license, and his new warship. He sends his regards."

She was referring to James Drake, the one of the most famous privateers in the known galaxy. She had a thing for him, I'm sure, but they had an odd relationship. They obviously weren't married, as she hadn't taken his surname, but they had a "Daughter" who was really just another AI who had been programmed by Anne herself. Weird. Meh, I don't judge. There's no precedence for human-AI relationships, after all.

"Tell him I said Yo," I responded. "Anyway... you came requesting a favor. Considering all the work you've done for me in the last year, I figure I should hear you out. Service to the Imperium does not go unrewarded."

"Yes, well..." said Anne. "I.... want a privateer's license. Class A will be sufficient, if I asked for class S it'd be like I was trying to be like James."

"Done," I said. And it was. The work was processed instantly through a command to my hyperlink. I love efficiency, like that. "Anything else?"

"There is... one other thing," said Anne, lowering her eyes somewhat. A sign that this was a much more difficult request, I figured. "I want... permission to link a Surian-made stargate to the Stellar Highway network."

"Hmm...." I said. "Surian-made? That must have been difficult to obtain. Why... do you want to link it? I need to know more of your intentions, before I can give a response."

"You see," said Anne, smiling slightly. "I have recently purchased a star system. You could call it... a free trade station, privately owned, with private security employed for self-defense. I would like to link it with the stellar highways, so that the business venture I am forming can make use of your network. Those who visit your territory through our gate will of course be subject to all rules and requirements for accessing the stellar highways, of course. It's just a single pair of gates that I want permission to link."

"Heh..." I said. Clever girl. Very clever wording, too. "So you're saying you are forming a sort of Freelancer's Guild and you desire access to our stellar highways." I chuckled. "I suppose that since we allow the Surians to link their gates to us, I can allow a genuine Achenaran citizen to do the same. You've got Citizenship, by the way. It came with your privateer's license, as a reward for your service to the Imperium and all that. But I'm sure you already know... you can access the data even faster than I can."

I thought it over for a moment. We didn't let just anyone use the stellar highways. But we did allow just about anyone to request permission to do so. And non-Achenarans paid a premium for the speedy passage it allowed. It was, so far, proving incredibly lucrative, since we were the only ones who possessed both the technology and ambition to control the space lanes. Suria was... too isolationist to bother. Which was really, really stupid of them. But by the time they got over their superiority complex enough to realize their mistake, it would be too late. The Surian Empire was in the twilight of its "superpower" era.

"Anyone coming through your gate will be subject to inspection," I said, "Just like the gates linking the Surian Empire. Non-Achenarans will be charged the normal fee for accessing the stellar highways, just like anyone else. You won't get any preferential treatment just because you're you."

"Then you will?" asked Anne, surprise in her voice. "Oh, thank you, so much! I didn't think you'd actually agree, but it was worth a try!"

"Yeah well," I shrugged. "Be nice to have some privateers assisting in our war against piracy. So I figure why not? Anyway, if that's all, you have a guild to form, and all that. Good luck, Miss Marlin."

"Thanks again," said Anne, curtsying low. She made her way out. I sighed.

I wasn't joking when I said the Imperium had declared war against space piracy. It wasn't a war that was easily won, but in this case, it wasn't a war that we were even funding. All the protectorates we were acquiring lately... well, suffice to say that they were perfectly fine providing the financial capital required to eliminate piracy in their territory. Even the Verge was much safer than it used to be. For now, the safe lanes were mostly centered around the Stellar Highways. But soon, the whole of the Galactic Arm might be considered free of piracy.

And through it all, Achenaran Hegemony of Orion will be unquestionable.

---

A Guild for Freelancers

Komarr System, Achenaran Imperium

"So you're saying he just agreed?" asked James Drake, the famous privateer. His disbelief was evident in his voice. "It can't be that simple. No one negotiates with Our High and Bloody Mighty Emperor and expects to get everything they ask for without paying more than it's worth."

"My dear James," said Anne with a smile, slinking closer to him. "It's all in how you negotiate." She giggled slightly. "The Emperor is a clever man, true, but.. he's also got some rather obvious weaknesses. Weaknesses which, unfortunately, you lack the necessary... equipment to exploit."

"Yeah yeah," said Drake with a wave of his hand. "He's a lonely introvert who desperately needs to get laid. I got that part, he has difficulty refusing a pretty face. But man... you really pulled one over on him. Not that I'm complaining mind you. I'm just surprised it was that easy."

"You know better than to think anything is difficult for me," said Anne with a giggle. "I can do... just about anything, when I really put my mind to it."

"Right," said Drake. "You can be a very dangerous woman. I'm just glad you're on my side. Anyway... how long until this organization is established?"

"I've put in the necessary documentation and sent out invitations and advertisements over GNN," said Anne. "We'll be able to consider it operational within the next few weeks. Oh, and that shy guy who needs a girlfriend gave me a good idea what to call it. How do you like the term 'Freelancer's Guild?'"

"Freelancer's Guild..." said Drake, thinking it over. "Well... it sounds like a mercenary group on the surface, but it could also be a great many other things. Privateers, free traders, even contract exploratory might fit under the umbrella. And to call it a guild... sounds kind of epic, actually. That Emperor had a pretty cool idea, actually. Ok, we'll go with that."

Anne smiled. "I'm glad you agree," she said. "Then let us set a course for our new home, in the Anisa star system, near Ekith. We have a lot of work to do. I've got my own ship, now, so I'll race you there."

"I can't believe you named the dang star system after yourself and Lisa," said Drake with a sigh. He began walking to the spacedock, with Anne walking next to him. "If the star system is Anisa, what the heck did you name your new privateer cruiser?"

"Why, that's a silly question," said Anne. "There was really only one thing to call it." She gestured to the view port, which showed a brand new heavy cruiser docked with the battlestation. "Behold," she said, "The Queen Anne's Revenge."

[ChaosDominion]

Vikechnok, NGC 2626
Fleet Admiral Sokoa Rekiim III stood in his office of Vikechnok, the farthest planet from their sun. Coldest planet in our solar system. Certainly reflects on us, doesn't it. He chuckled aloud as he contemplated this thought. We're a cold bunch, aren't we? Backstabbing, don't trust anybody... We bear the demeanor of thieves, no matter how just our intentions.He clasped his hands behind his back and looked out the bay window, the cold, or rather lack of warmth, of this particular planet as he gazed through the thin atmosphere to the stars.

Business calls. One can only put off reality for so long. The dictator sat down in his high-backed chair and set down his computer. It wasn't a computer in the sense of a human idea, but an AI. He set down a disc and began typing into an ergonomic keyboard, specially coded to his fingerprints. Once he had completed his password, an AI took form, a 3-d projection of a hologram. The Arcaen who stood before him was dressed in plate armor, a sword hanging from his belt. "Good evening, Fleet Admiral Rekiim. How may I serve you today?" The AI spoke with a proud voice, yet polite. It commanded respect, but did not seek to strip it from others. Once again Rekiim marveled at the brilliance of the AI designers; the AI, Brutus, was marveled off of the human hero King Leonidas of Sparta. Sokoa had been there once, despite the intergalactic ruling. After properly disguising himself, he paid them a visit to see if it was worth helping them. He had decided against it; but had been impressed by their rich culture.

"Can one ever call it evening, ?" The profound leader speculated aloud.

"Of course, based on the position of..."

Rekiim waved his hand, cutting the AI off. "Sorry. Just a bit of thinking aloud. Display emails and read aloud."
The AI gave an acknowledging nod. "Of course. First, from Vice Admiral Prestus Cole."
Fleet Admiral,
Nice job with the dreadnought situation. Maybe go out for a drink sometime?
VAdm. Cole
I assume he is referring to the Claw of Bane?"

Rekiim smiled to himself. "Those old pirates. Heh." Two months ago, just yesterday to the ever-youthful Arcaens, a splinter group calling themselves the Claw of Bane managed to steal the blueprints for a new Rho-class dreadnought, which would be the largest ship ever to grace the Arcaec Space Navy. They had managed to build one and terrorize the Merchant Fleet until Rekiim had several agents infiltrate the ship's crew and start a mutiny. They were able to take the ship; stopping the pirating as well as saving the military vast sums of money in not having to build the ship.

"Second, from Lieutenant Commander Sorkil Rekiim."
Dad,
First things off, I know you're going to chew my head off with the 'military doesn't have favors' bullshit. So anyways, I've been appointed commanding officer of the ASN Aedrus. Wondering if you'll be able to make it to the ceremony. Anyways, some personal news. Reena's positive. Read between the lines. I've got more I need to tell you, but it needs to be in person. This is shit I don't want on the record.
LtCom. S. Rekiim

Sokoa shook his head. His son was a sailor born and bred, and had the mouth to match. "Maybe I should give Earth another try."
Brutus shook his digitalized head. "I would recommend against it, sir. We barely avoided being caught."
"Nonsense. They never knew that we were there."
"Does the name Roswell ring a bell, sir?"

OOC: I got bored and started playing Halo again. I hope that explains any questions about Prestus Cole.

[Holeypaladin]

Galactic News Network

Ron Burgundy took another shot of whiskey. This was unbelievable. He looked to the girl sitting next to him. Satan Incarnate, AKA Veronica Cornerstone.

She was hot, he had to admit that much. But during the period in which Burgundy had been fired from GNN due to "unprofessional conduct on air", Veronica had stolen his position. And to think, Veronica herself was the one he had been "unprofessional" with, back when she was just a weather girl. Go figure that in this blasted modern society, women got ahead by sleeping around while men got fired.

Well, they had given him his job back, at least. After a period of working as an announcer for a program called Starship Smackdown, GNN saw the error of their ways and brought him back. But he was no longer the only Anchorman for GNN. There was now an Anchor-Lady, a "co-anchor", with which he had to share the spotlight. The little slut, how dare she!

"I hate you," said Burgundy. There were still a few seconds to vent his frustration before they went on air.

"Mister Burgundy," said Satan, "I used to think you were an attractive man, but now I see just what a douche you are."

"Go back to your home on Whore Island," growled Burgundy.

"We're on in five," said the announcer, and Burgundy turned his attention to the camera.

As the countdown hit zero, Burgundy read off the script. "Hello, Orion. And hello, Sagittarius and Perseus. This will be GNN's first broadcast to the periphery of the Stellar Highways since Ekith's declaration of allegiance to the Achenaran Imperium. I'm Ron Burgundy."

"And I'm Veronica Cornerstone," interjected Lady Satan, "Today's headline news has already been partially revealed to you. With the Stellar Highways up and running, GNN broadcasts can now be sent through the gate networks and into areas never before accessible. For the first time ever, a drow from Blacksmoke can listen to the same broadcast as a Farseer from Ayta Prime. And this is all thanks to our new benefactors, the Achenarans."

"Don't you worry though," continued Burgundy, "Because while the Imperium has incorporated Ekith, GNN will remain an unbiased news network bringing the latest of vital information straight to your FTL radio receivers."

"In other news," said Veronica the whore, "Several independent starship owners, including privateers, free traders, and bounty hunters, have banded together in a privately-owned star system called Anisa. The owner of the Anisa star system, a woman known as Anne Marlin, paid in cash due from private wealth amassed as a leading biotech engineer in the Achenaran Imperium. Now that's a woman after my own heart!"

"It certainly is," said Burgundy. "Anne Marlin has announced that the Anisa system will be the headquarters of a new galactic organization known as the Freelancer's Guild. All independent businessmen-"

"And businesswomen-" interjected Veronica.

"Yes, and businesswomen," muttered Burgundy, "Were invited to join the Freelancer's Guild, provided they abide by Galactic Law and most local laws."

"That was GNN's headline news," said Veronica. "I'm Veronica Cornerstone."

"And I'm Ron Burgundy. Stay mellow, Milky Way."

"And thanks for the flyby," said Cornerstone.

"But really, Stay mellow."

"Thanks for the flyby."

"GNN, Ron Burgundy. Stay Mellow, Milky Way."

"Veronica Cornerstone, thanks for the flyby."

"Burgundy. Mellow."

The transmission's audio cut out as the closing music sounded. Because he could still be seen, Burgundy said to Veronica with a smile on his face. "You're a job-stealing whore."

With her own smile, Veronica said, "And you have nasty whiskey breath."

Shuffling through some papers, Burgundy said, "I'm going to punch you in the uterus. Yep, right there in the ovaries."

[Cambyses]

Drip, drop.

Drip, drop.

The rain dissipated an hour ago, but the sound of water pitter-pattering down steel gutters and onto concrete walkways reverberated around the tower complex. To Pullas Fentas it was a comforting sound, a steady rhythm complementing the dimly lit and dusty interior of his seventh floor office. He sat in front of a two-foot tall wooden desk covered in loose scraps of paper and tacky paper weights, hunched over a mystery novel. His ears, leathery drapes hanging to his shoulders, fluttered in tune with his heavy breathing.

They rose with a start when someone rapped at the door.

"Phwah!" he snorted, falling out of his chair with fright. Quickly, he climbed back into his chair and attempted to arrange some of the papers on his desk. The person at the door knocked again, this time more insistently.

"Come in!"

The handle turned. In walked a female humanoid, sea green eyes and full lips couched in a sharp but sanguine face.

"Uh, how can I help you, miss?"

"The sign on your door said you are a private detective, is that correct?"

"Uh, yes yes, of course, very correct!" Pullas sneezed, his two trunks snapping out like party horns. "Very sorry, uh, about that. Yes, how can I help you? Missing purse? Missing pet? Don't you worry, uh, miss, I'll find it quick-"

"Actually, I'm here for something much more serious. A friend of mine disappeared two weeks ago. I need you to help me find him."

"Uh huh," mused Pullus. "Have you contacted the authorities? That is more something they deal with....

"The police are useless! It's been two weeks and all they've done is 'open a file.'"

"Ah, well...." Pullus churned the case over in his head. On the one trunk, he had little experience finding people that weren't lost or runaway children. On the other trunk, he needed the money. "I hate to be insensitive in this difficult time, but my rates-"

"I don't care about your rates," snarled the woman, "they are of no concern to me. I need you to find this man."

"In that case...." Pullus rummaged around in his desk for a pad of paper and pen. "Alright, give me the details."

"His name is Qost Aglyn. My species, thin, of about average height, maybe two inches taller than me." Pullus squinted at her and then scribbled down 5' 9''. "He had long, black hair which he combed straight back and a pencil mustache. No other facial hair since I last saw him." Though he could have grown some, thought Pullus. "He is a reporter for the Daily Post."

Pullus stopped writing and looked up. "What was that last bit?"

"He works for the Daily Post. He's a journalist," said the woman irritably.

"And what, pray, was he reporting?"

"Well, he had been down by the Puller Spaceport working on some story. Something about a vandalized freighter, I think he said."

"Do you think whoever vandalized that freighter didn't want to be reported on?"

Now it was her turn to squirm. "Look, I already told you I'd pay whatever you asked. What more do you want?"

"What I want, miss, is to be able to sit here in my office in peace and not have to worry about some gangsters busting down my door and dragging me off to wherever they're keeping your sweetheart."

"He's not my sweetheart," she said pointedly. "Just a friend."

"Oh yeah? Well then you won't mind if I pass on your offer." Pullus turned around in his swivel chair, his trunks folded in an air of finality.

Behind him he heard the clasps on her purse opening. "Money will not sway me!"

"I heard members of your species consider this plant a delicacy," she said. Just then, a beautifully minty smell overwhelmed him. He spun around in his chair to see see her holding a clump of bright orange herb. "Honeyroot, I believe it's call-AAH!"

His twin trunks shot and grabbed the vegetation from her hand. Clippings of the plant and drops of spittle flew about the room as he stuffed it into his mouth. She watched in horror.

"Mmmm. Honeyroot. It's been eons since I had it." He opened his eyes and peered up at her. Her face was suddenly much rosier, in fact the whole room seemed warmer and lighter. "Where did you find it? It's the one exotic plant I haven't been able to find on Gorod IV in all my years here."

"Just- just got it from a friend."

"A friend, huh? Your friend wouldn't happen to have anymore honeyroot, eh?"

She visibly recomposed herself. "Maybe, but only if you agree to help find our mutual friend."

"I thought as much." Pullus hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. "Alright, but on one condition. If it turns out your...friend has got himself held prisoner or worse by some gang somewhere, I'm done. No testifying in court, nothing."

"Deal," she said. She offered to shake hands, thought better of it, and settling for a nod of the head, turned to leave.

"Uh, one last thing miss."

"Yes?" she cocked her head.

"What's your name?"

"Oh, yes. You can call me Stella." With that she opened the door and disappeared.

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. It was raining again. Rather fitting, since he had just agreed to search for a journalist who may have been murdered by thugs for a strange woman who tempted him with a drug which was illegal on his homeworld and impossible to find on this god forsaken planet. How did she know he had been addicted to to it?

For that matter, why did she even bother coming to him?

[Cosmic Fury]

He counted the figures again, and he could hardly believe his own eyes, so he had a team of investigators hired simply so that they could all count the numbers and tell him that he was in fact not crazy.
^{`</sup>
When they came back, they told him that he was in essence the richest kid on the block, and they meant it in the strictest sense of the words. His financial empire had been so vast that even most Achenarans were baffled by the sheer amount of wealth that his family had managed to accumulate. He had even bought an empire himself in full, which was a feat unequalled in the history of real estate deals. And he had done absolutely nothing with his money for a good six months. In spite of that, he saw a massive return, even more than usual, in fact.
<sup>`}
Still, it was boring. He imagined that Severus Black was having a lot of fun out there, romping about while planning a series of events for the Emperor, likely half of them being there simply to make his assassin bodyguard angry for no apparent reason. And right now, Adrian would give a ship full of Credits to never be bored a day in his life... But such was his fate.
^{`</sup>
He let out a drawn out yawn, and waited for the rest of the numbers to come back. They no longer held all that much relevance now. As soon as he passed the mark that he had initially set as his goal, he had begun investing large sums of money back into his own empire (or his section of the larger empire he was now a part of), and it simply yielded vast returns. He controlled nearly all of the stargates that ran in his part of the reason, chiefly because he had paid for them out of his own pocket, and they were making Furia rich, not to mention filling his overflowing coffers, along with the Achenaran Emperor's -- which needed the money a lot more than he did.
<sup>`}
So, he had taken up the habit of dumping copious amounts of money into Achenaran Treasury Bonds, especially in those times he couldn't find anywhere else to readily dump all of his spare money in. His coffers always overflowed, and he made sure that they not only stayed that way, but most were happy that they did. In the end though, he was not even an adult, and he was the single richest individual in the known galaxy, aside from the Emperor... And it was boring.
^{`</sup>
"Your Grace, we have the report. Your numbers have been confirmed as correct. Investments have grown at a much larger rate than projected. What shall we do with the extra funds?" The lead investigator stood almost at attention, waiting for the orders of one of the most powerful individuals in the Imperium -- which also proved to be a boring thing, when Adrian thought about it.
<sup>`}
"The usual." By the usual, he meant that he would pay these people a lot of money to do nearly nothing, and to make a simple, large transfer of funds over to the Achenaran Treasury for yet another set of bonds for the young Furian king. Even if the Achenaran Emperor didn't like the concept of him having so much money effectively loaned to the government, it wasn't as if he had aims of taking over the Imperium by any sort of force. Not only would it be risky, but based on the way the Emperor acted, King Adrian would bet a trillion credits that he would be seriously depressed after just a week on that throne.
^`
He let out another yawn. "By the looks of it, I shall not be needed for the next few weeks. I wish to go to Wirus and Achenar to clear my head of my local politics for a bit." Here at the great planet of Mashiro, his wish was nearly everyone's command, and he would very likely be setting foot into a very luxurious villa on Wirus very soon, to be greeted by some important official, no doubt.

[Holeypaladin]

Princess of Purity

Royal Palace, Wirus III

"Daddy! Guess who's coming to visit!"

King Vincent I of Wirus, smiled at his daughter as she simply sauntered into the room and sat on his lap. She would always be his little girl, and always act like his little girl when around him, even when she was no longer quite so little.

"Hm...." he said, leaning back. "Your Surian prince friend?"

"Nooo..." said the girl, a beautiful blonde who looked to be about sixteen years of age, "Think richer!"

She was dressed in a casual dress in her usual pink and violet tone. The violet color always reminded Vincent of her mother, who shared the same name as the color. It was probably why the princess chose to wore it around him, because she knew how much Vincent still loved the late Queen Violet, and how she was Violet's legacy. She wasn't wearing her tiara at the moment, since she was dressed more in casual attire, so her blonde hair hung loosely down to her slim waist. She reminded him so much of her mother, the most beautiful woman ever to grace the Imperium.

"Hmm...." said Vincent, thinking back to her statement. "Emperor Donald, then."

"Not him... think more handsome!"

Vincent chuckled. "More handsome than your Emperor? You wound me, by implying the man who STILL hasn't responded to my offer to be... not quite good enough for my little girl." He shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe I should look for another suitor elsewhere, then, since you no longer seem quite so satisfied. If not the Achenaran Emperor, maybe the Surian Emperor? But no, if he was making an official visit, it'd have been on the GNN headlines weeks ago..."

"It's Adrian! You know, the king of Furia!"

"Ah right..." said Vincent, frowning slightly. "Him."

"Daddy...." chided the princess, poking the corners of his mouth, "Adrian is a nice young man. You should give him a chance."

"He's so... young," sighed Vincent. "And I've read the files on him... he's probably the most dangerous monarch left on the Council of Kings, after the dramatic turnover of power after the Emperor's birthday."

"You just want me to marry an Emperor," said Princess Lily Chrystalline Valentine of Wirus with a giggle, "No king will ever be good enough in the eyes of my daddy!"

"Perhaps you are right..." conceded Vincent. "You know I just want the best for my Lily. You deserve no less."

"Of course I deserve the best!" said Lily cheerfully, "That's why I'm going to greet Adrian when he arrives! Be nice to him, Daddy. He was an Emperor too, until his Empire merged with ours."

"I... suppose you have a point," said Vincent. "Very well then. Send him my regards."

"I will!" said Lily. "See you later, Daddy!" She hopped off his lap and hummed cheerfully as she swayed gracefully away, presumably to prepare for Adrian's arrival.

[Cosmic Fury]

It wasn't a long time at all until he had arrived. Usually, he made his announcements suddenly, and would be somewhere within a week. And here he was, two hours early.
^{`</sup>
He made a show of brushing off the less decorated uniform he wore. While it added to his looks, he wore hardly a single piece of jewelry aside from his ring, and didn't even carry his cane this time. One could notice that the last few months had changed him a bit, and made him harder than what he had meant to be...
<sup>`}
He didn't like it, and even though he kept up the charade perfectly, he still presented the very image of a young and strong young king. His longer hair was slightly tousled, but aside from that purposeful look, his look was perfect, as usual. Just as my people play their part for the Imperium, so will I. And he played his part as a loved and gifted monarch perfectly.
^{`</sup>
He saw Princess Lily approaching from the platform, but not her father, which was a very telling sign. If he really worries about my seat on the Council, my lack of meddling in that dwindled circle should have put his fears to rest by now... He refused to let anything slip past his positive-looking face, and he went on with his scene of the act. The curtains would close soon enough, and play time would finally be over. The masks would be thrown aside, and he would finally get to speak his mind without having to wear a poker face for a change.
<sup>`}
If only that day would come soon...

[Cambyses]

Pullus swung himself out of the the car and onto the platform. Dusting himself, off he glanced back at the electro-magnet powered car hovering above its tracks. Nobody ever thinks about the little people, he thought exasperatedly as the predominantly humanoid crowd stepped over him. With a sigh, he headed into the Puller Spaceport. This is ridiculous, he thought for the millionth time that day.

“All commercial spaceline passengers make your way to terminal one. If you are flying private, to concourse....” All around Pullus people rushed one way or the other, several larger species threatening to step on him. Out of a sense of self preservation he moved towards a wall. Seeing a trashcan, he suspended his dignity and climbed onto it in order to get a sense of where everything was.

“Hey Pullus, that you?”

Pullus's ears drooped.

“Pullus, over here!”

He spotted the voice. A tall, porculine specimen who resembled nothing more than one of the beasts which roam in herds across the plains of his native world, though this one had stood on it's hind legs and donned a bright orange vest. Pullus suppressed a groan.

“Uh, hey there Bovi!”

Bovi pushed a mop and pail towards Pullus, parting the sea of people like an ocean. “It's been a while, man! What brings you all the way out here, little dude?”

“Business,” sighed Pullus. “Always business.”

“Oh?” Bovi stood dumbly, pondering the meaning of business. Then his face lit up as his thoughts settled on something he was familiar with. “Want to go bowling sometime?”

“Afraid I won't be able to, Bovi.” An awkward silence passed. “Have you, by any chance, heard of a ship being vandalized at this spaceport within, oh, say, the last two weeks?”

“Hmm...,” Bovi scratched his snout with mitten-like hand. “No, not that I can think of.”

“Oh, well then-”

“Wait! I remember now. I didn't see it mind you, but I heard some freighter got torn up not to long ago.” He leaned close, conspiratorially. “They said the crew took a beating too.”

“A beating. Oh my.” Pullus's ears fluttered in distress. “Where was this, what terminal?”

“Over in terminal 3. Want a lift?”

Pullus looked again at the throng of travelers. “That would be wonderful, actually.”

After frantic minutes spent clinging to the lout's back as he shoved through the crowds, they arrived in terminal 3. A massive atrium extended several stories above them; rows of wide doors lead to docking pods built to accommodate smaller vessels. Bovi carried him up the fourth floor to one door in particular. There was a guard at the entrance who, recognizing Bovi as a janitor, opened the door. “Good luck cleaning that up,” he said.

Pullus clambered off Bovi's back and immediately became confused. There was no ship docked here. In fact, the arm of the mechanism which holds ships firmly in place on the edge of the landing era, hanging over a four story drop, was missing. A sick feeling in his stomach, he walked over to the ledge and peered over.

“Did a pretty good job, didn't they?” commented Bovi.

Pullus grunted. On the ground below, surrounded by orange cones and workers, lay the smashed and charred hulk of a space ship. The twisted docking arm rested on top of it.

“Maybe it was some sort of accident?” asked Pullus hopefully.

“That's not what the say.”

“Yeah, and who are they?” demanded Pullus.

Bovi shrugged.

“That guy looks like he knows what happened,” said Pullus. “The man in the suit down there, see him, talking to one of the clean up crew guys.”

“I see 'em.”

“I'm going to go poke around down there.”

“You want a ride?”

“That's quite alright, Bovi, I think I can manage it from here.”

“Bovi blinked rapidly, a gesture similar to a humanoid's lower lip quivering. “Are you sure?”

“Now, now, we'll see each other again some day. Maybe we'll even go bowling at the arcade.”

“Promise?”

Pullus suppressed a sigh. He couldn't stand this overgrown pup, as useful as he might occasionally be. “Yes, promise. Now run along.”

Alone now, he took another look. The ship appeared to have been set fire also. He was beginning to think he had bitten off much more than he could chew.

[Holeypaladin]

Imperial Mandate

Emerald Palace, Achenar IV

I had missed GNN's first broadcast to the other arms. Well, I didn't really like to watch the news, anyway, so long as I kept track of the highlights. New civilizations were becoming aware of the Imperium, and it wouldn't take long before they made contact.

Don't get me wrong, I already knew more or less who the big dogs were. And most of them were bloody Theocracies. What is it about fanaticism that leads to the foundation of stellar empires? You would think that dogmatic repression of enlightened thought would lead to technological stagnation, not expansion. Then again, most of them didn't even use their own technology, rather stole from others as they conquered.

Perhaps the main issue with theocracies were that they were imperialist bastards who simply had to convert all their neighbors to their particular religion. Generally at gunpoint. Note to self: Keep an eye out for First Law violations on the part of large theocracies.

Well, we didn't have the military influence to police other regions, nor was it our job. Galactic Law was definitely important in the long run, but there's no true law in an anarchy, after all.

Well, might as well review our second-hand reports of the major empires. I first reviewed the reports on the Drow States. Matriarchal society of feminazis... great. I could definitely see them taking offense at the rule of Achenar by a man, but they could take their offense and shove it, as far as I was concerned, as they lacked the military power to pose much of a threat.

Then there was the Infinitum. It was one of those theocracies... but the reports described more of a democracy than a true theocracy. Democracy didn't generally have much heart for war, as public opinion generally tended towards peace in the long run, since people didn't like to have their families killed.

Speaking of public opinion, there was a growing discontent regarding the size of the Achenaran Imperial Armada. Protests against the current expansion and refit of the warships were becoming more popular. Mostly the same old arguments... "We don't need this many ships" or "We already have the most powerful fleet in the galaxy, it's better to cut back than expand." Thankfully, this wasn't a democracy, so I could tell those protesters to take their complaints and shove them, too. But... well, that wasn't all that tactful, so I had professionals who had more tact than myself be the ones to politely tell them to shove it. Seemed to be working so far, but I knew that before long, we'd need to find a better reason to keep building our fleet. Suria was no longer considered a strategic threat, as we had surpassed them in power recently, with the acquisition of Furia and all that.

Putting those thoughts aside, I reviewed the reports of the dominant power in Sagittarius. This... couldn't be right. If the Illuminated Worlds were as powerful as these reports claimed... why hadn't they expanded into the Schetzen Verge? I realized why when I reviewed a bit more... they had been involved in a rather intense military struggle until recently. They were still rebuilding their economy, no doubt, but the Achenaran outposts in the Duchy of Cygne, which I had granted to the Duchesse Susan Swan in appreciation of her outstanding service over the years, would definitely attract the attention of the locals and the theocrats from Nirlsis.

Speaking of Cygne... I had a report to read from them. Strange, it seemed somewhat high priority... why hadn't this been brought to my attention earlier? Note to self: Find out whoever mis-categorized this message and have Gunther beat them up. Or at least politely reprimand them.

So there was a local race, called the Gorni. Weak race, local power only, but they had a lot to say about the Illuminated Worlds. These reports given to us by the Gorni were freaking disturbing, no joke. Their acquisition of Volruk territory had made them the single hegemonic power of the Sagittarius Arm. Their military might was apparently almost on par with Achenar's right now. That was definitely a concern.

The report got worse. These giant squids, the Nier, who ruled the Enlightened Worlds tended to conquer everything in their path. The Gorni were worried that they would be next. So worried, in fact, that they were willing to turn to Achenar for protection. It seems they would prefer to be ruled by an empire of humanoids from Orion over being conquered by squids, so the Gorni offered their fealty. See what I mean about this report being higher priority, and how it should have been brought to my attention earlier? I drafted my reply, basically telling them to send the Gorni monarch to Achenar to swear the traditional oath of fealty. That would grant us some assets in Sagittarius, but it'd also attract the attention of the Illuminated Worlds.

Who apparently had freaking stargates. Yes, freaking bloody stargates. Their possession of stargates made them an immediate strategic threat to Achenaran interests. If they decided to encroach on our territory and build their own stellar highways... well, we'd have no choice but to go to war. And I've rather lost my taste for war, recently. In war, people died. Lots of them. It was always better to avoid war. Intimidation helped do just that, hence the Imperial Armada's very existence.

Well, if nothing else, the existence of this dangerous theocracy from Sagittarius would assure the people that there was still a need to expand the Imperial Armada. Perhaps their discovery had been a blessing in disguise? Regardless, I sent Susan an aside, telling her to expect contact from the Illuminated Worlds at some point. We were a presence that the Nier couldn't avoid for long.

---

Princess of Purity

Royal Starport, Wirus III

The Princess of Wirus gracefully made her way through the starport, though it was a bit silly that she had to have Royal Guards escort her everywhere. Her father was so protective of his precious daughter. She merely smiled as she always did, pretending the guards weren't there.

She spotted Adrian, and made her way over to him. She was wearing a more formal dress this time, although still quite graceful, and she wore the platinum tiara with the pink diamond in it. It was one of her favorites.

She gave a low curtsy, smiling and blushing, and said, "Hello, Adrian- I mean, Good Day, Your Magesty, King Adrian I of Dragos. Daddy- I mean, His Magesty, King Vincent I of Wirus sends his regards, and for some reason he felt like you'd rather be greeted by myself than by him..."

She blushed a bit deeper, and said, "So welcome to Wirus. What brings you to our beautiful kingdom? Did you come to see my flower garden? It's very pretty!"

[Cosmic Fury]

"Good morning, Your Grace. And don't worry bout titles. I'm king of enough kingdoms to run anyone's mouth dry, and I don't like doing that to people. So please, simply call me Adrian if that's what you want." The young king adjusted his coat. Looking left and right, he looked at his own guards. "You know, you don't have to stand there doing nothing. Take the day off and enjoy the sights."
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"We enjoy them just fine here, Your Grace. Your safety is our only concern." The guard's face remained totally emotionless, but Adrian could still tell that this was about as much fun as the guard would ever really have. At least they're not boring mutes, like most guards are.
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"It shouldn't be. This is one of the safest places in the entire region. I'll be fine. Now disperse and at least pretend you're not within sight, and at least try to enjoy yourselves. That's an order." His wish was their command, and his command was an unbreakable law to them. So, they made themselves scarce, as Adrian made his way over to the Wiran princess. Right now, he stood as tall as most Achenarans, and he had a very strong and youthful appearance, as befitted one of his station.
^`
He extended his hand for the princess to take, as was the custom in his House for thousands of years for good friends. "Mashiro finally got boring, and from the reports I've seen, the Verge has begun to take good care of itself for a change. So, I decided to come visit a place with friendlier people." The reference towards Lily's personality wasn't going to go unnoticed, he was sure of it. Besides, he had the King of Wirus to talk to. He would rather have allies if the situation in the Council remained on its course. He effectively controlled a very large chunk of the votes for any decisions that he needed to push through should he need something done, but so far he hadn't needed to use his political muscle -- thankfully.