33

“Smile and wave, nephew,” Uncle Nathan said, forcing his own smile as the shuttle approached. “Just smile and wave.”

I waved and smiled. “I am, I am. So, what do you think?”

“Well…this is either going to go sideways or FUBAR.”

“Or it might just work. We’ve been talking with them for a whole week. They seemed interested in what we have to say.”

“More like they are interested in what you have,” Tom Hennig said. “You did give them an ultimatum in gold.”

I sighed. I’m not some dragon who hoards gold for eternity. What’s the use of having that wealth and not flaunting it? Especially when it could help my cause against the quartz? Money opens ears and loosens mouths, after all.

“Well, I’m just happy they’re finally taking this shit seriously. A dialogue is a dialogue. Don’t look at a gift horse in the mouth,” I said.

Uncle Nathan studied my face and then regarded the landing shuttle, carrying foreign dignitaries from France, Great Britain, Japan, and New Zealand—the fence-sitters during the first meeting with the other world leaders. I also invited the President of Peru and two members of the Swiss Federal Council with solid ties to the Swiss Banks because I needed to secure my economy. I went over my agenda repeatedly for the past three days, memorizing them.

Agenda One: Find a way for my troops to be in San Francisco. Diplomatically, of course.

Agenda Two: Negotiate a trade deal. I had plenty of resources to choose from to give life to the Imperial Credit, the Tellurian Empire’s official currency. The Swiss could legitimize that currency, and I felt they’d ask for a lot of money.

Agenda Three: Mediate foreign investments. Once the credit was established as a legitimate currency, I wanted banks, corporations, and other institutions to invest in the empire and turbo-charge my tourism. I needed these invited countries to sign off on allowing local and private companies to work with me. CEOs, billionaires, and the one percent were itching to get their hands on forerunner tech, and this was a way to entice them to open up their wallets.

Agenda Four: Establish embassies within friendly nations. This way, I didn’t have to sneak around like some fucking criminal while I transported immigrants back to the Hub. Once I have embassies, I could ferry recruits into the station without them getting arrested. President Howell already painted me as a human trafficker across the media.

Agenda Five: Convince France and the UK to let me join the United Nations. They’re my gateway to the remaining permanent security council’s unanimous vote. Hopefully, they’ll convince Russia, China, and the US to say yes. An arduous task, but they could sway NATO’s opinion about me in the future, which might put the necessary pressure on the Americans. I’ve already occupied the newly-formed and uninhabited archipelago, guarded by three corvettes and a company of imperial soldiers.

Agenda Six: Form a military alliance. Not easy to do, but I added it there in case it came up. If it’s a success, I could kick the quartz off San Francisco.

It’s been a month since the empire’s inception, and our image was steadily improving. Jason’s continuing propaganda pieces had left a mark on people’s opinions on Earth. Although people initially mocked and ridiculed us, the impressive feat of building a city in space within thirty days and giving potential migrants abundant opportunities was too much to ignore.

And I might have shelled out twenty million dollars worth of bribes to pliable journalists to write a fluff piece about the empire and cast a negative light on most world leaders’ response to me. Of course, those who saw through it bought their own hit pieces. I had to swallow my dignity and overinflate my importance for a good cause for a few months.

A game, after game, after game…

Behind closed doors, we’re barely keeping our shit together every day, but as far as Earth and its leaders were concerned, I am in total control, and I was not on the brink of a panic attack once or twice a day.

Yeah. Let’s pretend.

It’s a start, and now I’m hosting my ever first summit.

While the shuttle lowered the ramp, Uncle Nathan hummed a song from Phantom of the Opera to calm his nerves while Tom Hennig stood uncomfortably beside him, mind racing and shuffling on his feet. Jason was busy organizing his team from the side to capture this monumental moment for the empire. Kyle, Smitty, Alonso, and the rest of the Praetorian Knights, decked in their new nanite-infused armor in glinting silver and white, watched attentively as the shuttle doors opened.

Prime Minister Natalie Chabert walked out of the shuttle first, followed by half a dozen of her security detail, mostly MI6. She was much shorter than I had imagined from TV and our meeting, but she strode toward me with confident steps and held her head high. I couldn’t say much for the rest of her entourage, who gaped at the massive structures of Dock Three and the empty void of space through the open hangar doors.

Sarah Sherwood, who stood off to the side, approached and whispered in my ear, “Natalie Chabert does not like it when you shake her hand too gently. She’ll think you’re a misogynist just because she’s a woman. She also does not like unnecessary compliments, so be warned.”

“Thanks, Sarah. Duly noted. Firm handshake.”

“Seems like a straightforward woman on paper,” Uncle Nathan commented. “But she dances around a conversation.”

I looked over to him and threw an expression that read: Oh, you notice that, too?

Uncle Nathan shrugged. “Be careful with her.”

“Always am, uncle.”

Sarah Sherwood had been briefing me about the world leaders since her arrival at the station. It was Prime who discovered her and brought her to my attention. As the former Deputy Chief of Staff to President Howell for several years, she had firsthand experience in dealing with the intricacies of the government’s framework and how to juggle between departments. She also studied these world leaders and what made them tick when she worked under the Secretary of State from the previous administration.

Sarah had lived and breathed the game most than anyone on this station, probably the ace that secured Howell’s rise into the highest office. It didn’t hurt that with her law degree, she had been a boon in legislating what laws should be included in our infant justice system besides my word being law. Sarah claimed that’s “too broad.” If I was to be a judge, jury, and executioner, it was still a good idea to have a cheat sheet that everyone should follow before I bring down the law on anyone.

I’m still curious why she joined the empire and left Howell behind. She had a track record for being loyal, but I wondered what changed.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Anything else?” I asked her.

“Oh. Please don’t stare at her right ear. She’s self-conscious about it and will hate you for the rest of the day.”

“Good to know.”

For a brief moment, Chabert scanned the five hundred imperial legionnaires behind my back, standing in attention. I had called upon the First Cohort of Legion Invictus of the Imperial Marines to join me, the revamped division of my military, modeling it mainly after the Roman Legion. Ranks had been a subject of confusion amongst recruits, seeing my friends, my former platoon, and the original settlers of the Hub as the only commanding officers. Now that we knew what we wanted to do, a more streamlined hierarchy began to take shape after my imperial announcement, giving as much structure and strong foundations to the government’s legitimacy. And with that came order, discipline, and many trickling promotions, primarily based on their previous military records.

One that the legion behind me took seriously.

It was undoubtedly flashy, but I wouldn’t complain about their presence. Behind the legion were the completed Sprite-Class corvettes parked intentionally in the hangar bay, along with a hundred or so Medusa-class star-fighters. Ben Amendola and Nick Ochoa stood in line with the first batch of attack fighter cadets.

“Are you expecting a fight, emperor?” Chabert asked, amused.

“Formalities, prime minister,” I said. I extended my hand. “Welcome to Segerstrom Station.”

She raised her eyebrow at the name but took my hand. I gave her a firm handshake. Most of the crew nicknamed Station One and the Hub itself as Segerstrom Station, so I might as well make it official.

Chabert turned to look at Earth through the open hangar door and chuckled. “Well, you don’t see that every day. This is my Foreign Secretary, Melanie Morris.”

I turned to the other woman a decade younger than her standing beside her. “It is nice to finally meet you as well, Madam Secretary,” I said.

Morris grinned nervously. “You too, emperor.”

Sarah had briefed me that she was new to the job since the previous foreign secretary had died in Paris during the Quartz attack. He was one of the few highest government officials around the globe who perished during the first wave. Melanie Morris was the only enigma of Chabert’s entourage, one that Sarah had not been in contact with.

The rest of the dignitaries walked out of the shuttle, starry eyes gawking at the scene before them. What caught my eye was President Pablo Carrasco of Peru. If there was one thing I’ve learned about the Peruvian president was that he was a proud and boisterous man, known as the South American version of President Adam Howell’s strong-man politicking. At thirty-five, he was one of the youngest presidents of Peru, maintaining a bad-boy image with his good looks, charismatic speeches, and tendency to break the status quo in the international community. Unsurprisingly, when I asked for support, he was the first to step up when others ignored my call after the world leaders’ meeting. He made it well known he was offended I had not come to him sooner. He was that one kid in class who voiced the opposite opinion because it was cool, and no one would. I had to thank him for turning the tide with his South American neighbors. Without his support, I wouldn’t have Ecuador, Colombia, Brazil, and Chile officially recognized my government because I was setting up shop next door to the continent.

Which was why he was invited to the summit.

However, Carrasco had claimed the newly-formed archipelago and made a fit about my troops building a base there. Sarah thought it best to indulge him and then form a diplomatic treaty between Peru and the empire. We needed the islands to join the UN, and President Carrasco had more grounds to blow up those plans since the islands were much closer to his country. I shook his hands and Chabert’s first upon their arrival, then to Prime Minister Justin Walker of New Zealand, my only ally from the beginning.

“Good to finally have you here, prime minister,” I told Walker.

“I can’t wait to talk to you about certain opportunities that might benefit our two nations, emperor,” Walker said politely. He’s a stocky man in his early fifties with white hair and a clean-shaven face. Though he looked intimidating in his portrait, he was quite jovial, commenting about the station’s state and asking curiously about the various ships around the hangar.

“So when can we have one of those?” Carrasco pointed at one of the corvettes. “Or is that not on the negotiating table, no?”

“President Carrasco, I have invited you on a grand tour of the station so that your country may invest in the success of our war against the quartz and perhaps share in the wealth that the forerunner tech possesses. An alliance between us can be beneficial in the long run, of which I have planned a trip to explain my point.”

Carrasco scratched his chin. “Shared wealth? So the ships are on the table.”

I forced a smile. “They’re forerunner property, and they are not for sale.”

He didn’t like that. He turned his head to the side and sniffed. “Oh. We’ll see. What about your robot assistant? Your alien friend not good enough to greet us?”

“He is the station, President Carrasco. Though you may not see him, he’s always watching.”

His eyes flicked around the hangar. “What a neat trick.”

I took a breath. This day’s going to be a nightmare. I introduced the rest of my entourage, explaining their roles in my government. Uncle Nathan, emulating his new role as Duke and Admiral, was courteous and respectful, but Tom Hennig looked more nervous as my Head Minister of Defense. Still, he shook their hands, and we began our tour around Segerstrom Station.

“We’ll start with Level 21, the main city. From there, we’ll work our way up to the palace.”

Private small businesses had cropped up across Level 21 since the city had been established and boasted a population of twenty-six thousand people (excluding the military). Level 22 was starting construction to make room for the growing population.

Riding a private elevator tram, I led the foreign dignitaries, my entourage of ministers, and the Praetorian Knights across the Ruby Square, the “downtown” of Level 21, where most shops had been established. A large crowd had already formed to welcome them, waving imperial flags and singing along to Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life” as we took the stage. Jason and his people busily filmed everything.

The foreign dignitaries gave speeches to the crowd, which consisted of their former citizens. I also took the podium and gave a six-minute speech about unity and friendship that Amelia, Sarah, Jason, and my father had been pouring over since we learned that the summit was actually going to happen, much to our surprise. We thought they were going to say no.

We held a minute of silence for the fifteen million souls who have died from the quartz attack.

After the speeches, it was a grand tour of walking through shops, boutiques, delis, and diners, shaking people’s hands, posing with the common folk with selfies, and other blatant crowd work. Chabert, Walker, and Carrasco noticed how the crowd always parted where I walked and bowed when I graced their presence.

As for the Praetorian Knights, their stories of mainly consisting of the toughest sons of bitches on the planet had gained traction since Jason’s selling them as former special forces from all military branches across the globe, and that former SEAL Team Six members led the Knights. The crowd treated them with wary eyes, keeping them out of arm’s reach. They tried to avoid their gaze.

When one man in his sixties reached out for my cape, hoping to touch it, Kyle already grabbed his wrist and pushed him back. Sometimes I needed to calm them down a bit. Though I appreciated that they took their jobs seriously, I didn’t want my citizens to have broken bones. I greeted the old man, shook his hands, and realized most of these people wanted to see me face-to-face. I never imagined being emperor meant you were getting groped all the time. There was a lot of touching.

The knights finally broke the crowd apart and led us back to the elevator trams. We headed to Level 19, the military sector.

“Should I be concerned that you are taking us to one of the most fortified sections of the station, surrounded by thousands of your soldiers?” Carrasco asked, bemused.

“You are our guests,” I said reassuringly. “I’m not here to kidnap you. Although, my men and I are going to perform a demonstration of our capabilities.”

Walker and Chabert exchanged some worried glances but stayed quiet.

I chuckled. “No, not against you. I’ve invented a few prototypes that will make the war industry drool with envy.”

Chabert raised an eyebrow. “And you’re going to show that to us? These prototypes? You’re going to let us know what you have?”

She meant to say that I was giving several people loyal to their respective countries a front-row seat to what my military was capable of.

I nodded. “Once you see them for yourselves, I don’t think you can do anything about it.”

Chabert leaned forward. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m saying, once my legion is fully equipped with forerunner-made tech that I labored day and night over, I’ll render your military obsolete by the end of the week.”

“Obsolete?”

“Yes. Then, you can run over to tell President Howell I am the solution to his San Francisco problem--the only solution. And you’ll tell him that he should not say no to me a fourth time, or else he’ll regret it.” Chabert paled a little. “Oh, don’t worry, prime minister. I wish him no harm. I know you all talk behind closed doors, and you’ll love Level 19. And anything I ask from now on, you all won’t be able to say no.”

“You’re awfully confident, emperor, that this summit will go your way,” Carrasco said. His demeanor had changed from his public facade to a more serious one. Several of the dignitaries’ security suddenly grew nervous. My praetorians remained calm, however. “Meeting your people is all well and good, but it doesn’t sway how we think of you.”

“A pretender?”

Carrasco pursed his lips and stayed quiet.

I shrugged. “But the day is young. There’s much to see. Believe me. I have a show in store for you.”