The Day Of The Emperor's Death
Estate of the Trustee, A Property On The Palace“They all agree? You're certain?” She drummed her fingers against the old table, her brow creased in thought as her eyes bored holes through the messenger.
He'd withered somewhat under her gaze, but to the boys credit he'd managed to keep his composure, “Yes Ma'am, enough of the Vacare agree that there can be no question. Our understanding of the situation is incomplete but there's little doubt that a coup has been attempted and bureaucracy conspirators have sized the capital; it appears what remains of the royal family has scattered to the winds. We've instructed the Vacare Voidcasters to inform us of any developments, but anyone with spies in the capital will know what has transpired in broad terms.”
Amelia turned her gaze to Hadrian, the worried look on his wrinkled visage belying the excitement in his eyes. She didn't like that image in the slightest, but she listened carefully as he spoke, “It seems we have no time to spare. With the Emperor dead and no clear successor to speak of the Authority's command structure will be in chaos, but if I know our resident Admiral she'll side with whoever happens to be sending her orders from the capital. Never was a patriot, that Thomond. If the bureaucracy gives her the word, and they will, she'll seize this system and everything in it. All this family has built will be lost in a moment.”
His eyes narrowed and he turned to Lucius, “We need to act before that happens, how many captains are in our pocket, brother?”
The Trustees brother was almost a decade younger than his liege, but the resemblance was enough that if not for the nearly translucent white of Hadiran's hair they could have been mistaken for one another. His face remained impassive as he considered the question, eventually grimacing before he replied, “Ten we pay and have dirt on, another six just taking the money. One more we don't need to pay; so seventeen in all. They command a little less than a fifth of the ships in dock between them, not nearly enough to fight off the rest if Thomond does what you suspect. I recommend we lock down the Eight Rings, it wont hold forever but if we transfer our security forces from city three we should be able to seize the bulk of the Authority fleet before the remainder override or destroy the docking clamps. If our loyalists are waiting for them when they do we should be able to prevent them from causing any damage or getting away.”
Amelia spoke up in alarm, “If we turn on the Authority without provocation we'll be rebels as sure as the Bureaucracy! I see and respect the viewpoint of the Trustee but we're talking about detaining thousands of Imperial sailors and soldiers, not to mention killing senior officers and destroying ships in open combat. Even we only
suspect Thomond is a turncoat. The rest of the Authority won't believe us without solid evidence. We don't get to back down from something like this.”
Maximus had been silent until now, but cast a warning look towards Amelia as he interjected, “Watch your tone Advisor. Besides, the Trustee is right. The Seft family wont survive this if we lay down, Thomonds nature forces our hand. However, you make a valid point. If we commit to this course of action we will have to take a side, and quickly. We can detain the sailors, we can impound their ships, but Authority vessels are gene locked and without their compliance those ships are wasted space. We need those men and women, and the only way to gain their loyalty is to appear to be on the right side of all of this. I recommend we find one of those wayward royals soon, or we'll be all but defenceless when the Bureaucracy or one of the noble houses comes knocking.”
Hadrian nodded, “Just so. As for rebelling Amelia, that implies there is anything to rebel against. For the moment the Empire doesn't exist as anything more than an idea, and we have only ourselves to count on, ourselves and our kin. Lucius, inform your contacts of the plan and dispatch our security forces. After all,” The old man smiled serenely, “We don't get to back down from this.”
Amelia's hand stilled for the first time since the messenger had spoken. Well, she supposed that was how it was going to be. With a sigh she leaned back and watched Lucius excuse himself. The Emperor was dead, and even she hadn't a clue as to who the legal heir would be now, not that it really mattered. As long as the dynasty was preserved the Empire would be whole. For now she'd watch the move that would decide her, and her children's fate on the holographic display that flickered to life above the old table. She could only hope Thomond would be caught unawares.
Octavia Ann Station, One Of The Eight RingsThere had been whispers of some sort of attack on the capital all day, and Jenny had been soaking them in from her usual spot at her favourite drinking hole. If she was going to get deployed against rebels, human rebels with gravity cannons and energy projectors, she was going to get right and proper drunk beforehand. Oh she knew most soldiers had to quell a proper rebellion at least once in their careers, but she'd been hopeful that squishing insects from orbit was all the action she'd have to see. Never hurts to be optimistic does it?
She'd long since dismissed the waves of shouts coming from outside as more soldiers working off their anxiety in that most time honoured fashion, beating the shit out of each other. At least she had until the crack of an electrolaser being discharged outside the bars window resulted in her spilling half a glass of beer down her shirt. Worse yet she was wearing her uniform. Fuck, that wouldn't go down well with the brass.
The cold beer jolted her out of the nice fuzz that'd settled onto her more than two drinks ago and she stood up to see three corporate personnel in riot gear barging into her beloved establishment and cracking the head of the poor private that tried to stop them. Had the infantry detachment started a riot? That didn't fit, there weren't enough corporate goons on any of the rings to handle something like that, it'd have been MP's breaking it up.
Which lead her conveniently back to the subject of rebels. She cursed inwardly, or at least was under the impression it had been inwardly, when she saw the riot police cuffing every Authority sailor and soldier in the bar. With the acrobatic finesse of a beached whale she swung into action by swinging a chair into the bars window. She tumbled out of the window, successfully avoiding the largest pieces of glass and gracefully escaping with only minor lacerations as electrolaser shots flashed past, missing her by inches thanks to her uncoordinated and intoxicated swagger.
All around the street, and having looked up all around the bloody station, corporate thugs were bashing heads and stunning Authority personnel with those damn electrolasers. If Jenny could make it to her cruiser she'd be safe, Thomond would have this cleaned up in a few hours, crafty bat that she was.
Or at least, that was the thought before the flash of a breached reactor core scarcely a thousand clicks away blinded everyone on the station. Jenny didn't have much time to process that before another flash and a searing pain in her ass cheek put her to sleep.