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Book 1 | Chapter 32

32

Prime took a few minutes to hack through the radio waves and air my declaration across the globe uninterrupted—all five minutes, including footage from the video call with the other leaders and their vote. I had to beat them first before they spun the story in their favor. I repeated calling myself the emperor so I could stick it to President Howell, Borodin, Zhao, and their ilk and amplified The Tellurian Empire’s control of space and beyond.

I wouldn’t say it was a calculated move that we prepared arduously for the past week, but we predicted most of the outcome. It was up to the people how they’d feel about joining an empire, but we expected a dip in our recruitment efforts in the coming weeks. They might hesitate when I throw the word “empire” around. Too many movies have painted empires as the big bad that had been ingrained in people’s consciousness. Hell, I would hesitate to click the register button.

And I was glad I had an ace up my sleeve: Jason Navarro.

Jason managed to catch a ton of great footage from the Battles of New York and San Francisco, using the drones in various angles, footage that not many of the media had. He even included a few snippets of my tense conversations with Captain Iraket on the bridge, and I must admit, I looked badass. He also filmed various activities around the station since it’s slowly getting populated and touched on the plenty of jobs and opportunities in space. And most importantly, a chance for a new life.

Jason zoned in on the anger the people felt after these attacks, almost in the realm of emotional manipulation. He was like a conductor to a macabre orchestra with various images of death and destruction under the quartz’s wake, as if saying, “Look at what the quartz have done to our planet. We can give you the voice and the action to do something about it, and when you are done, they will fear Earth. Join the Tellurian Empire and build a better future.”

Build a Better Future.

It was a hell of a recruitment video and a propaganda piece. Jason proudly liked to tell everyone he hit the trifecta—Emotion, Visuals, and Story—through the ad. The footage looped ten times so everyone could watch it on TV, on their phones, or hear it on the radio.

Coming up with Tellurian was not a happy accident, but it took days of testing with my ministers until Meredith came up with the name. “It’s just another obscure title for Earth,” she suggested. “I remembered it from taking Latin during college. Tellus Mater. Earth Mother.”

So, the name stuck, and we’d been using it for a few days.

Once the cat was out of the bag, we unfurled our new flags, insignia, and uniforms and spruced up all eight stations to match my new government, mainly in Station One, where the majority of the habitable spaces were located. It might look easy when you’re reading it on paper, but letting my friends, family, and soldiers swallow an imperial position took me days of convincing.

We played with every angle. Uncle Nathan would rather have a military tribunal since this was a military operation, but my father would like to appoint a government-elected official. Most of our citizens came from democratic countries with countless years of voting tradition. Getting them back to the way of the 1800s required tact and panache. I promised him I would appoint a Prime Minister once the quartz was dealt with. I made all sorts of promises. The modern empire, I like to call it. Instead of conquering other nations, we would conquer the final frontier.

The moon. Mars. The Asteroid Belt. Titan. Europa. Ganymede. Cloud cities above Venus. Those were potential colonies that I could set up in the solar system alone. No harm done. No culture gets tarnished. No nations would fall. Endless possibilities.

Well, until I get to my neighbors in the galaxy. That’s a different matter entirely.

And it won’t be pretty.

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It had become a routine to have daily briefings in the throne room, which was the first thing constructed when the Celestial Palace was erected. Guards saluted as I walked past the enormous doors and entered a four hundred feet wide and fifty feet tall chamber flanked by thick, towering pillars where my retinue of guards stood in attention. On the opposite side was the raised platform with twenty-seven steps toward a simple slab of rock, which made up my throne. The walls had a silencing barrier that wouldn’t allow open ears from the adjacent rooms to eavesdrop on us.

I walked over to the council, who was already waiting for me. Kyle, Alonso, and Smitty followed my trail. Prime One wasn’t far behind.

Admiral Nathan Segerstrom, a title I had bestowed to my uncle since he joined up, was always the first to arrive, standing next to his right-hand man when he was a Navy SEAL, Dane Abbott, who I presented with the rank of captain. Meredith and my father joined them. Amelia, Jason, Jason’s brother, Connor, and Tom were on the opposite side. Freddie, Seth, Ryan, Rachel, and Ben stood by the periphery as my extended advisers. They all made up my close council. They were decked in the finest garments, courtesy of the issued fashion that the Ministry of Media had been propagating, emulating these darker-schemed and sleek techno-wear dress suits that government officials had begun wearing around the stations.

I, however, felt overdressed. Jason insisted that it was all about perception and image. If the public would buy my claim as emperor, I needed to look the part.

So, I wore a slimmed-down ivory-white tunic and a suit begging for a nasty drop of tomato sauce, layered by a tight-fitted jacket with gold buttons, dark pants, and boots. I wore a royal blue cloak over them and an oval-shaped gold filigree crown resting on my head. Prime had etched it himself, adding black tourmalines and rubies around it.

It was the first time the others saw me wear a crown, and it sank into the reality of our situation that we were indeed doing this. We’re all crazy enough to establish a brand new country—no—an empire. I caught my father gaping. Meredith audibly gasped. Amelia had to do a double-take. Jason cleared his throat as I approached, loud enough for everyone to hear, and they bowed in disarray.

I froze, not knowing how to respond.

Jason sighed. “Okay, we’ll work on that next time, guys. Hopefully for the better. Sorry, Tony—I mean, emperor! We’re practicing.” I caught Freddie and Ryan giggling from behind. Uncle Nathan chuckled under his throat and shook his head.

I forced a smile. “Well, that was weird as fuck.”

“I like the crown. It has a certain flair.” Uncle Nathan pointed at it. “On to the meeting?”

I nodded.

When no one spoke up, I realized they were waiting for me to sit on the throne. Jason must have briefed them about the standard protocols he had been handling for a week. He seemed to enjoy the task, having fun writing drafts about how the people should approach me and the etiquette and formalities of the imperial government’s operation. Mainly he based it on the movies he saw. I rejected half of it, including the citizens should not look me in the eye, or they would get beheaded. Jason called it a joke, but people might take it too seriously.

I climbed up the steps and sat on the throne. “Let’s begin.”

They reported on a bunch of projects they had been working on. Most of it went smoothly. However, I couldn’t help but notice that they addressed me more formally than usual, except for my father. Throughout the meeting, he was the only one who called me by my name.

With the help of the nanites and the worker drones, Amelia designed and created apartment complexes on levels 18 and 21 for the new people. Amelia put a lot of effort into making and designing the stations feel almost like home. She modeled the layout after Washington, DC, emulating Greco-Roman architecture and mixing it with a more modern style.

Tom reported that I had over seven thousand recruits training on Levels 19 and 20 across three branches of my military: The Imperial Defense Forces, The Imperial Navy, and The Imperial Marines. Tom had more control of the Defense Forces and the Marines division, but my uncle held more sway in how he trained the naval recruits under his care. I implemented several simulation chambers to hone their training in operational analysis, close-quarters combat, tactics, space deployment, and many more. I made a mental note to visit the grounds and watch how their training progressed.

Jason got busy as well. He hired a hundred people to maintain the Ministry of Media, revamped the station by making it less depressing (according to him), and gave the station’s brutalist architecture with soft white and sky blue colors. He created our flag using my design, decorating every corner of the station with the slogan: Build a Better Future. He even designed our uniforms and planned out what type of clothes I should wear in public for the next month.

Jason didn’t want us all to “look poor” for the cameras and to the rest of the world. The empire’s opulence should be intentional, reflecting the prospect of working and living in space enticing to increase the recruitment across the planet, which he claimed had been a success. All everyone could talk about back on Earth was what I wore and how expensive my stuff was. Humans never changed in gawking at shiny things.

But they were saving the one thing I wanted to hear the most for last.

President Howell remained adamant that my imperial forces would not step on American soil, especially San Francisco, or it would be a declaration of war. He made the announcement mere hours after I established the empire. China and Russia followed suit, so I stopped picking people up from those three countries. The Americans who wanted to join me had to cross the border to Canada or Mexico instead. It didn’t go over well with my council. Most wanted to drop on the city and take care of the quartz ourselves. I offered another extended hand to the American president, but he denied it again.

I curled my fist. The quartz occupying San Francisco was like a zit you could not eliminate. It’s ugly to look at every time I looked down at the planet every morning, knowing that those quartz were murdering, kidnapping, and doing God knows what to the civilians trapped behind the plasma dome.

I thought about ignoring President Howell’s warning. To hell with the damn war. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it anyway. He doesn’t have spaceships. I do. But I had been trying to avoid a war with Earth. If the US called upon its allies, it would be me against the full force of NATO and the United Nations.

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I’d rather fight the quartz than humans.

Fuck politics.

I raised my hand. “That’s enough for now,” I said. It was scary how abruptly they stopped talking with just a lift of my finger. I shuddered to think I’d get used to this kind of power. “This shouldn’t be this difficult when we have a common enemy,” I muttered.

“You just announced yourself an emperor,” Amelia said. “It’s hard to convince people that. We still have to sell you as the sole controller of the forerunner tech.”

“Then, I’ll leave that up to Minister Navarro.”

“At least we got lots of gold,” Jason said. “We can jump-start our economy from that, buy assets and outsource materials from other countries, and build our main foundations. They’re angry at us, but they can’t deny gold. Money is still money even if there’s shit all over it.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m another that they have to avoid and be afraid of for eternity,” I said.

Jason smirked; an idea was forming. “Perhaps that’s exactly what your brand should be.”

“Uh, what?”

“Think about it.”

“You want them to fear Tony?” My father laughed. “How in the hell are we going to recruit people? It’ll make it easier for President Howell or President Borodin to scare them away!”

“Fear is a delicate balance, Mr. Segerstrom. Think of it like a pendulum: There is true fear, and there is revered fear. We’ve already put a little of that fear in people when that media leak blew up, and they found out a human controls these stations, but there’s also interest and curiosity. Some even call Tony a hero but are wary of what else he can do. If we put up a strong front, we can silence the naysayers like President Howell.”

“You want me to be feared and revered?”

“Reverence. Admiration. Loved. That is what you need to work on. They already feared you because of Prime. Now you have to make people love you as the emperor. I can give them the perception; the rest is up to you.”

I snorted. “How can I with my oh-so-delightful personality?” I said sarcastically.

“Now, don’t get coy with me. You’ve got some charms. Use them!”

“If they’re willing to join a monarchy,” Amelia glared at Jason to stop joking. “But what’s done is done. If they’re gonna take us seriously, we need to join the United Nations. That will legitimize our government.”

It’ll be hard to do. The permanent member states needed to vote me in, and most hated my guts already. “What do you propose?” I asked.

Amelia took out a datapad and enlarged a holographic topography of the Southern Pacific Ocean. She began to zoom in on a small archipelago thousands of miles off the coast of Peru. “I expect an exponential growth in our population within the next year or so, which means we’d need five hundred acres of arable land per one hundred people. That should feed us.”

“Add that to the list of things I have to convince Earth to hand over, and they already don’t like me.”

“Oh, you don’t need to. We got two options, and this archipelago is one of them. A week ago, this island right here—” She pointed to the biggest one at the northern end “—was only two miles wide and the only uninhabited island in this region. Two weeks later, nine islands showed up, and this big island expanded for eleven miles. Prime and I did the calculations, and we believe that Station Two’s emergence triggered an ancient fault line, caused a massive earthquake in the region, and revealed a primeval continent.”

“You want us to, what, drop down and colonize it?” Freddie asked.

Amelia smiled. “Chile, Ecuador, and Peru have not claimed the islands. It’s too far, too remote, and too expensive to build multiple infrastructures. However, we can afford all three.”

“They will claim it once they see us running around there,” Nathan said. “All they have to say was it’s theirs.”

“They can argue all they like, admiral, but we’ll take action. If we’re going to follow international law, it is well outside their exclusive economic zone by fifteen hundred nautical miles. They have no jurisdiction to claim it unless they put people in it.”

“These are just rocks. No vegetation aside from the one that already existed on the big island,” Jason said.

“We can export soil or play the long game by seeding the island. To be recognized by the United Nations and other countries, we have to own land on Earth physically and have a territory and a fixed border. Earth’s orbit is too broad. Anyone can have a claim on it. Howell and the others may argue that this station doesn’t count, and we’re not a country because we’re not on Earth. But this archipelago will silence them and legitimize us.”

I like it. The island already had valleys, ridges, cliffs, and beaches perfect for a grounded military base. This archipelago would be my gateway to the Americas and control of the Pacific Ocean.

And a jumping point to San Francisco. I’m doing a stake-out right underneath the US.

“Okay. Let’s do it,” I said. “And what’s the second option?”

“There’s already a great resource for soil: The moon!” Amelia said excitedly. “According to Prime, we can process lunar soil to grow plants successfully. I have to do some experiments, but it’s doable. Scientists from the International Space Station are already doing the same thing. If you approve a lunar colony, we can build farms on the surface, transport tons of soil into the hub, and develop more farms here. Maybe also on the island.”

“Good thing the quartz is no longer hovering on the moon,” Ryan said. “It might be safe to colonize it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Amelia gave Ryan a thumbs up.

“And there’s no various health issues that might arise from consuming food from lunar soil?” I asked.

“This is all theory, but we can artificially eliminate some lunar regolith and introduce nutrients to change the soil’s pH level. Beyond that, there should be no difference than most soil you’d find on Earth.”

“Did you include the animals?” My father asked.

“They’ll need more room to graze, but I can’t grow cows or pigs from lunar dust. I’ll leave that job up to you to discuss trade with the other nations. Canada has lots of cattle. Maybe you can strong-arm Jardine of handing us a thousand cows?”

“No, New Zealand would be better,” my father said. “Prime Minister Walker is already friendly with us, and the Kiwis have a huge cattle industry.”

“These things would take months to get results. If we want to feed ourselves, we must talk to other nations for trade. I will speak to Prime Minister Jardine and Prime Minster Walker about it. One thing at a time, people. Now, where are we at with training our troops? Are they combat-ready?”

Tom stepped forward. “Tony, um, emperor, our troops just started training. Most of them had only been going at it for two weeks. I don’t think we should push them to the front lines just yet, or we’ll be collecting body bags by the end of the week.”

Prime One floated down the steps. “The forerunner has found a solution to expedite their training, Minister Hennig.”

“And what solution is that?” Nathan asked.

I stood up. “All of you know that I can talk to Prime in my head because of the nanites inside me, enhancing my strength, agility, and senses. You’ve seen that yourselves when I fought the quartz one-on-one. If I administered a similar dose of nanites to you, Prime calculated it would kill you in six seconds. They are made for the forerunner only.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming,” Tom said.

I smiled. “Over the past week, I have recreated a not-so-deadly dose of the nanite concoction. If we implant it into our troops, it will increase their efficacy in their training. What should take a normal soldier back on Earth ten to twelve weeks of basic training, imperial troopers would take them three weeks to complete. If they specialized in a field, give it another three to six weeks of mastery. By the end of the year, when the quartz armada arrives, we will have a fully trained legion behind our backs, ready to face them.”

“The nanites will also aid them in surviving space,” Prime One interjected. “For example, during an unprotected vacuum exposure, a human goes unconscious within fifteen to twenty seconds. They will asphyxiate and die within the next ninety seconds. With the nanites, they are conscious for one whole minute as the nanites work hard to stave off damage to the body. They will remain alive for the next four minutes. Plenty of time to extract them for a full recovery without permanent impairment.”

“An imperial trooper will also survive substantial physical traumatic injury than most common soldiers,” I added.

“Super soldiers?” Jason asked almost eagerly. I could tell he was thinking of how to spin this for another vid.

“Not quite, but they’ll be harder to kill.”

Jason grinned. “Nice.”

“It’s an invasive procedure,” Amelia noted.

“It is. That is why we need their consent if they are willing to undergo such a procedure. If they decline, then I will find them a support position. I don’t want them to feel pressured they had to do this, but if they’re gonna be on the front lines, I will require all soldiers to be implanted with nanites moving forward.”

“There might be complications. Not all human bodies react to the same thing,” Amelia said.

“I thought of that, which is why the procedure might take a few hours, maybe even days. I want to ease them into attuning with the nanites rather than dunk them in cold turkey style.”

“Will we need it, too?” Meredith asked.

“Yes. Given our positions, all of you are the senior officials of my government. That includes Daniel and Isaac.”

Meredith narrowed her gaze. “Why are they included?”

“Technically, since I am an emperor, my brothers are princes, Meredith. You, Dad, and Uncle Nathan are royalty, too.”

“Uh, what now?” Uncle Nathan asked.

“I thought it would be obvious by now that my extended family would become part of a royal house. The House of Segerstrom.”

My uncle laughed. “So, I’m a prince now?”

“Yeah. A duke, actually.”

My father’s eyes widened. “A duke?”

I turned to Prime. “Designate Uncle Nathan and my father as Duke Nathan Segerstrom and Duke Samuel Segerstrom. Assign the title of the duchess to Meredith as well.”

“Designation set.”

Uncle Nathan and Dad looked stunned. I shrugged at them. Technically, a dukedom involved owning land, but there’s a whole solar system I could pick from. I’d deal with that later.

“Is this necessary?” My father asked.

“Dad, if we’re gonna make our position clear to the world, we’ll do this properly. Which means you, my council, are part of the nobility. Lords, ladies, and all the responsibilities and formalities of such positions.”

Rachel scoffed and leaned over to Alonso. “Do I look like a freaking lady to you?”

“Get used to wearing fancy dresses, Rach.”

“Last time I wore a dress was junior prom.”

“Well, it’s all up to you if you want to accept the titles,” I said. “From now on, we’re going to work hard to legitimize our government. Nobility. Military. Civilian. All of them. We need to be all on the same page. The people already looked up to you as the original settlers of this station, and I thought we could capitalize on that perception.” I turned to my guards. “Kyle, Smitty, and Alonso. Why don’t you three step forward?”

They walked toward the bottom of the throne’s steps.

“Kneel,” I said.

Alonso blinked. “What?”

“I said kneel,” I said firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

They hesitated at first, but then they did as I asked.

“During the Roman Republic, the Praetorian Guard has protected emperors for centuries. Taking a page from their book, you three will become Sir Alonso Ruiz, Sir Kyle Rodriguez, and Sir Samson Schmidt. You will become the first Praetorian Knights, a division of the Imperial Army. I will give you three permission to train, recruit, and command other knights. You will become the elite of the elite.” I turned to face Uncle Nathan. “The SEALs of the empire. You may all rise.”

They stood up. “I could have gone without the fancy ceremony, but that was nice,” Alonso said and smirked. Kyle and Smitty exchanged sheepish grins.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I just want to be dramatic. Anyway, since we’ve all decided to create an absolute monarchy, I also thought of drafting a constitution. It’s still in working progress, but we still need to establish law and order.”

“Fortunately, we don’t have to deal with crimes just yet,” Tom said.

“The more people come here, the more chances we’ll face one, which is why I want to create a Ministry of Justice. To jump-start our economy, I’d also need a Ministry of Coin. And then, to deal with our citizens’ needs, I’ll create the Ministry of Education and the Ministry of Domestic Affairs. I’d also need an extended hand in dealing with other nations, so I’ll create the Ministry of State. We need to establish many things to make life in the hub run smoothly and without hiccups.”

Amelia looked around the room. “And who do you want to lead those departments?”

I turned to Alonso. “Are they ready?”

Alonso nodded. “They are all waiting outside the door, um, emperor.”

“Good. It’s time to meet the rest of my government. Let them in.”

My council parted while I went back to sit on the throne. The palace guards opened the doors, and two dozen people, dressed in their Sunday best, approached the throne, led by Sir Emile Dumont, who looked particularly happy since the imperial announcement (he had been drilling the palace staff more and more about proper royal etiquette as a mandatory procedure).

I noticed all of them looked nervous, and they couldn’t take their eyes off the room, especially on me. I felt guilty when I realized they were intimidated by me, but I sat firm, expressionless. These were going to be my scientists. Engineers. Military officials. The future civilian ministers of my government.

What did Jason say again? Let them fear you? I did my best “resting-douchebag” face I had presented to the world leaders’ meeting. It seemed to work.

Following Emile’s lead, they bowed and curtsied. When one man raised his head too early, Emile quickly hissed for him to lower his head back again. The poor guy almost shit his pants. I glanced to the left, where Freddie and Ryan tried to stifle their laughter.

I nodded to Emile, and he motioned for them to get back up.

“You might be wondering why I have sent for you.” They all looked at each other. Sizing one another up. I noticed the woman standing to the left side a second longer, Sarah Sherwood, the former Deputy of the Chief of Staff to President Howell's administration. She looked away when she felt my gaze.

“I want to talk to you all about the Tellurian government and the opportunities it has in store. Listen carefully. You don’t want to miss a thing.”