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The lone figure stood rigid on the high balcony, breath burning in the frozen air. Ungloved hands gripped the ancient stone railing as he looked down upon the dim city that lay below. A harsh wind cut at him, rippling his cloak as it poured unfettered off the glacial mountains that towered over the palace. The man turned his attention briefly from the city at the sound of hollow whistles in the distance. Another storm was coming from the north. Briefly the winter sun reflected bright orange against the glistening stone of a nearby parapet. He narrowed his gaze, as if forcing the heat and light away by sheer force of will. On cue the day’s last bit of warmth faded, retreating from the coming snow and the harsh stare of the massive palace’s master. Presently he returned his attention to the object of his initial interest.
KendalFalk, capitol city of Quantar’s northern continent, lay tired and dwindling on the fading horizon, the driving snow of deep winter all but blotting the city from view. A few sparse lights burned here and there through the grimness, a sign that the few who remained still struggled to stay alive, searching for any source of life-saving heat.
But all the fires had gone out in KendalFalk.
Lanterns glowed from the scattered outposts of troops strung out along the road to the city. The men at those outposts guarded the city with their lives. Not from any threat from outside, but rather to keep the people inside locked in and controlled, and to keep the man watching them from exercising his wrath if they didn’t.
Towards those people, once his subjects, the man felt a combination of pity and contempt. They could never see what he saw, never understand the beauty of his masterwork. To them, life was merely a daily struggle for survival. To him, the city represented his greatest aspirations, and the struggle of its dying citizens merely served as proof of the correctness of his way.
A second gust much stronger than the first swirled across the valley and up to the balcony, stinging his face with crystals of frozen water. The wind caught his black hair and whipped the vapor of his escaping breath back towards the open metal doors behind him. He clenched his fists, more determined now than ever to finish his work and bring a final conclusion to this long and grating chapter of his life.
He turned abruptly to re-enter the palace, flowing cloak trailing in the wind, giving up his observations for another day. He passed through as the automated balcony doors slammed shut behind him, their cold metal mocking the winter night as it descended.
And once more darkness fell upon the valley.
***
THE MAN IN THE IMPERIAL Commandant’s uniform shifted uncomfortably from side to side, sniffed once and then coughed. The cold winter air had parched his throat again. The tall man coming in from the balcony, his Lord, Master, and Commander, whipped the cloak off his shoulders as he entered the study and dropped it thoughtlessly on the floor, then sat down behind his working desk in an enormous beaded leather chair.
The study was mostly made of wood, dark and ornate, almost too much so. Hunting trophies hung on the walls, wild quarterboar heads and oxen, even a bear-like animal that the Commandant failed to recognize. The implements of the hunt were displayed above each kill, ivory-handled ordinance rifles on one wall, night tracking coil rifles on another, and far too much personal armor to be believable. The study had once belonged to Nathan Cochrane, former Director of Quantar, its garish styling a remnant of a time when these quarters had served more civilized company. Now it was possessed by his eldest son and de facto heir. Nathan Cochrane would have been unhappy with the amount of dust and dishevelment that his son had allowed in this place, were he in a position to contemplate such things. After a moment of silent respect the Commandant turned his attention to his commander.
He sat casually, almost slouching, arms on the desk and fingers touching in a steeple in front of him. The only light came from a single desk lamp and an overworked fixture hanging at the far end of the room. The black eyes of Prince Arin, Regent of the Chair of Quantar, peered out from a tight white face, eyes looking as though they could bore a hole right through the Commandant. He opened his mouth to speak, for all the worlds looking as if he would crack his visage like splintering ice.
“Why are you here, Tal?” he demanded. The Commandant held up a plasma tablet in his right hand.
“Dispatches, my Lord. From the Vixis.”
This piqued the Prince’s interest. “News of my brother at last?”
Tal pulled the tablet closer. “Yes, news, my Lord. Not all of it good I’m afraid.” The Prince Regent sighed.
“Tell me your news Tal, before I grow bored with you again.”
“It’s encrypted. Shall I decode it myself, Lord?”
Arin lost patience, sensing Tal was deliberately delaying. “No. I’ll do it,” he sat forward and extended his hand towards the officer, making clear in the motion that it was a command. Tal nodded assent and handed over the tablet. Arin ran his fingers along the seal, allowing the unit to read his body temperature and analyze his genetic code. It beeped affirmative after a moment more, then began to display encrypted code, green text on a black background which swiftly transformed itself into Standard. Arin read as Tal watched from a few feet in front of the desk, holding firmly at attention. After a moment Arin threw the tablet down onto the desk with a loud clack.
“The PKI have failed. Arimel has failed.” Tal nodded once in response before speaking.
“The pursuing ships lost the outrigger in a nearby field of dense-core planetesimals. They never recovered the signal.”
“I did read the report, Tal.”
Tal correctly read impatience in his master’s tone. The Commandant’s boots snapped together. “Sire!”
“And now I must tell Bennis there is a complication.”
“Yes Sire.”
“I don’t much care for my predicament.”
“No Sire.”
“And I’ll bet you’re exceedingly glad you are not in my position?”
“I have no ambitions to rule Quantar, Lord.” Arin snorted his disdainful response.
“Tal, you would stab me in the back with poison in a moment if Bennis offered you the Regency of this rock I was born on. Then my family curse would pass to you,” Tal bowed his head slightly in obeisance.
“I would think by now my loyalty to you would be unquestioned, Lord.” Arin turned his black eyes on his second.
“I seek loyalty from no one, Tal. Merely obedience.”
“Yes Lord.”
“Still,” the Regent stood and picked up the report a second time. “You do have your uses. What did the patrols deliver today?” Tal noted the change of subject and swiftly stepped into his role as chief adjutant.
“Twelve prisoners, my Lord, two female. They were most pliable to our methods. I’ve had one prepared for the Governor, per his wishes. I saved the second for you.”
Arin looked up sharply from the report. “That won’t be necessary. I have my needs more than adequately met at the moment. Give her to the guards who captured her.” He began scanning the report again, sliding quickly through the lines of data.
“As you wish, Lord,” Arin turned off the tablet and set it on the desk, then sat down again in his chair leaving Tal to maintain attention. They stayed this way in silence for several moments before Arin spoke again.
“My brother lives, Tal. As long as he does your people’s occupation of this world and my desire to rule it cannot be fulfilled. He must die.” Tal merely nodded at the casual coldness with which Arin contemplated the death of his sibling. “I noted in the intelligence that one of the prisoners gave information on a resistance cell quartered at the Sanctuary. Do you find this information reliable, Tal?”
“Not entirely, Lord. But it might explain why we cannot find the central resistance base amongst the outer mining colonies. If they were based in another system it would have to be a neutral, no Kallaket family would risk the Emperor’s fist coming down on their heads for the sake of a backwater rebellion against a legitimate government.”
Arin smiled coldly. “The Sanctuary is officially neutral, but apparently not above subterfuge against the Emperor’s Regent here on Quantar. So, we have harboring traitors against the Empire. Treasonous acts committed by a planet which supposedly protects the downtrodden of the Imperium. I would say that makes for a fine case of intervention of a Sovereign against a seditious enemy. We will move against them in the name of the Emperor.”
Tal looked at his commander in astonishment. “You’re not proposing we attack the Sanctuary?”
“I propose nothing. I merely state the facts of the situation. I’m sure the good Governor Bennis will not hesitate to embrace the Emperor and defend his interests against such an enemy.”
Tal sensed the deep thought and planning that Arin had gone through to prepare for just this situation. His spy network had obviously grown substantially in the intervening years since he was placed in the Regency by the Governor. He found new respect for the Prince Regent, and made a note of caution to review the loyalty of his own network. He would have had to tend to that business soon enough anyway. Tal quickly reassessed the situation and decided to take the conversation in a direction of his own interest to try and learn more about Arin’s depth of knowledge.
“And what of the Kallaket, Lord? Will they stand by while their last and only route of escape from Imperial justice is scored by the Fleet?”
“The Kallaket?” Arin waved at the air in disdain. “A den of fat and greedy fools. They are all corrupt now, looking to their own interests. Even the family’s on the Board know the Sanctuary has become a nuisance. Oh, they will cry out loudly on the floor of the Chamber but privately they will be glad to be rid of it and all the dissidents it harbors.”
Whatever the plan, it was clearly well thought out and had been in work for some time. Tal pushed on. “And the Defensive Shield? May I remind the Regent that no ship has ever penetrated it.”
Arin’s smile began to twist into a sneer, as if he had anticipated every question. “The Shield has never been attacked by a Starliner before.”
Tal inclined his head, open admiration for his younger adversary now obvious in his features. “The Vixis? Not the Fleet?” Tal knew Arin was popular amongst the Governor’s occupying navy, but if he had allies who could place him on the bridge of Bennis’s personal Starliner, he was far more powerful than Tal had previously suspected. He tried to dampen Arin’s mood. “I don’t believe Governor Bennis will allow that,” he warned.
“He is of no matter,” Arin stood now and straightened his uniform, confident and ready. Tal tried once again to stave off a potential confrontation.
“I would not underestimate him, Lord Regent.”
Arin snapped around to face Tal, towering over the Commandant and freeing a rage speculated about but rarely seen by his close associates. “You do not have the ability to underestimate him!” he roared. Tal stepped back instinctively from what seemed a very real threat to his person and bowed his head nervously in apology. Arin stepped back and replaced his rage with a controlled composure that was as equally frightening as the outburst. His voice was quieter but still firm.
“The Governor will be forced to acquiesce to my plan to defend his reputation, and that of the Emperor. After all, the Royal name has been stained with treachery, and that treachery’s home is Earth,” Tal let out an audible sigh of stress which the Regent clearly enjoyed hearing. He paused only for a moment before continuing the monologue to its logical conclusion.
“My brother must die, Tal, that much is certain. It is my intention to take the Vixis to Earth and destroy the Sanctuary and my brother, and the rebels they harbor, because it is my pleasure to do so,” Then Arin leaned forward, close to Tal’s face, a snake-smile creeping across his features.
“For the sport of it!”