Chapter Eleven

Carann, Royal Palace

Publius Vedrans Quarinis knelt in the small, private chamber beside his office, saluting with a fist over his heart to the imposing holoimage that flickered before him. “And so, my lord,” he said, “the civil war has begun, as I have planned. The Dozen Stars teeters on the brink of all out chaos; it will take but a small push for it to tear itself apart completely.”

“You have done well, my servant,” the Emperor, Verus Licinius, replied. “And the Queen? What of her? If she lives, then all is for nothing. Her death is our first priority in this.”

“The rebel dukes have arranged a trap for her, and she has already taken the bait,” Quarinis said. “Respen is particularly bloodthirsty on the issue – for the sake of his pride and his claim to the throne, he can’t allow an heir of Aestera’s blood to live. His desire to see Artakane dead was nearly our undoing; he launched an attempt to assassinate her without consulting with his fellows. Its chances of succeeding were small, and had it succeeded it would have likely only made the girl a martyr and the retribution against Aurann all the swifter. Fortunately for our plans, Artakane survived and the invasion of Tantos was launched before the Crown could make reprisals against Respen.”

“I do not see how Artakane’s survival is ‘fortunate’ for us,” the Emperor said, though his tone was curious rather than angry. “Given the choice between her death and the destruction of the Dozen Stars as a nation, I would choose to kill her. The Kingdom of the Dozen Stars is not a threat to the Empire. The girl… she is.”

Quarinis knew to what Licinius was referring; he was one of the only Imperial officials who was privy to that particular secret. Though he kept his abilities hidden from the public, the Emperor was an Adept of immense power, and almost two decades ago he had dreamed of his own death at the hands of the Queen of the Dozen Stars. Preventing that dream from becoming reality had become Quarinis’s task; one Queen already had died at his orders, and he intended for Artakane to become the second.

“If I may be so bold, my lord,” Quarinis said, “it is not Artakane personally that you fear; you told me when giving me this assignment that any Queen of the Dozen Stars might be the one. Merely killing Artakane but allowing the Kingdom to survive leaves an opening for another to arise. Destroying the Kingdom utterly – that will end the threat forever. And so, my lord, I do not merely wish to see Artakane dead but destroyed. Let the people see her as weak and incapable of protecting them, and then her death, when it comes, will be the end of her and her legacy.”

“And what, then, of your tools?” the Emperor asked. “These rebel dukes you have stirred up against her? What will you do should one of them succeed in taking the throne?”

Quarinis smiled thinly. “That, my lord, has already been taken care of,” he said. “When we made our arrangements, I told them that I didn’t care which of them ruled, but I have since spoken to each of them privately and promised my support for when they inevitably fall to conflict among themselves. The nobles of the Dozen Stars are a proud, fractious lot, my lord – unlike our patricians, they have no true understanding of loyalty to the common good. They already prepare to fight among themselves for power once Artakane is dead. I intend for them to destroy each other and leave the throne vacant. Then, my lord, the Dozen Stars will be ripe for the Empire’s taking. The threat will be ended forever, and the shame of our long-ago loss of their territory shall be avenged.”

“Yes,” Licinius said, smiling. “Your plans please me, my servant. I also have news that you may find pleasing. The primary armada of the Alaelam Alliance is gathering at the Bahrina system, preparing for an offensive against us. They hope to drive us from their territories permanently. What they are unaware of is that Admiral Decimus is laying a trap for them; when the armada advances, it shall be pinned by our forces on all sides and destroyed. Admiral Decimus assures me his plan is without flaw; my own assessment is more cautious, but if all goes well, the ability of the Alaelam Alliance to wage war on the Empire will be crushed within the next three months.”

Quarinis’s breath caught. “My lord… can it be true? After two centuries, will the Alaelam Wars at last be ended?”

“More likely temporarily paused,” Licinius said. “Admiral Decimus doubts he will be able to pursue them to their core homeworlds and force them to capitulate completely, though al’Aymar Alaen will doubtless push for it. His desire for vengeance against his rivals among his own people burns bright as ever. But with that threat on our coreward border temporarily quieted, we will at last have the forces needed to turn our attention to our rebellious former subjects in the Dozen Stars and Realtran. At long last, the Empire will remind the galaxy why we are the true inheritors of Lost Terra and the rightful rulers of humankind. Continue to please me, Ambassador, and Gens Quarinis will stand tall indeed in the age to come.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Quarinis said, and pride mingled with fear rose in his heart. The rewards the Emperor promised were great, but when Verus Licinius’s expectations were high, the unspoken threat for failing to meet them was always a terrible one. “I remain, now and ever, your loyal servant; all that I have done is to serve your glory.”

“Indeed,” the Emperor said. “Now go, my loyal servant, and bring me the Dozen Stars. We shall speak again when the time is right.”

The Emperor’s holoimage flickered and vanished. Quarinis exhaled deeply and stood, straightening his uniform. The rewards were great, as were the risks, but that was always true when one served directly at the pleasure of emperors. He knew what needed to be done; now all he had to do was make those plans a reality.

It was time to go to work.

///

The training mech stumbled backwards under the flurry of blows Arta rained upon it. The automaton, roughly human in shape and designed to mimic the strength and motions of a human body, brought its own sword up to defend, executing its parries with mechanical precision. Though not a perfect substitute for a human sparring partner, under ordinary circumstances the mech served as a more than adequate means of refining one’s swordsmanship, adjusting its tactics and level of skill in accordance with its opponent. Today, however, it simply couldn’t match Arta’s fury and was forced to give ground before her relentless offensive. Finally, she struck the sword from its hand with a powerful blow and the disarmed mech stumbled backwards, but Arta wasn’t done. Lunging forward, she struck a blow with her bare off hand to its torso; there was a flash of brilliant blue light and the mech burst into pieces that rained down across the practice hall.

Arta stood amidst the remains, panting heavily, and barely heard the sound of footsteps approaching behind her. “I think it’s dead,” Karani said, and Arta turned to face her sister. “Guess you really had some anger to work out today, didn’t you?”

Arta shot her a withering glare. “What do you think, Karani?” she asked. “Three duchies are in rebellion, Tantos III has fallen, and our own homeworld is threatened, and since I’m the queen, apparently I’m the one who’s supposed to fix everything! Other than that, I’m fine.”

Karani’s face fell. “Oh, Lord, Arta,” she said. “I’m sorry; I guess me being flip isn’t what you need to hear right now, is it? I mean, Katanes is my home too, but at least nobody’s looking to me for all the answers.” She sat down on the training hall floor, kicking aside a still-smoking piece of mech, and patted the ground beside her. “Want to talk about it?”

Arta slid to the floor beside her sister and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t shake the feeling that this is all my fault,” she said. “Respen and the others, they’re doing this to get to me, because I showed up out of nowhere and got in their way. Why else threaten Katanes? And more than that, being queen means that everything in the Kingdom is my responsibility, no matter why it happens. I’m just one girl, Karani. I’m not ready for this.”

Karani put her arm around Arta’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “Respen, Naudar, and Sateira are the ones who decided to attack Tantos. It’s their fault, and me and you and old Mardoban, we’re going to make them pay for that.”

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“Maybe we will,” Arta said. “But still, Karani, think about it. What’s the noble class for, when you get right down to the ideas our system is built on? We’re here to protect people. Why do you think it’s so important for us to be able to fight and command in battle? That’s why, going back to Artax. I’m a queen, so I’m supposed to protect the whole Kingdom. But I can’t even protect my people from my own dukes. What sort of a pathetic excuse for a queen am I?”

“I know that when we were kids, you were always the serious one who wanted to do great things and spent all her time training and studying,” Karani said, pulling Arta close. “You’re the one who always worried about doing the right thing, not me. Now’s your chance to put that to the test. But whatever happens, I want you to know that I believe in you.”

Arta felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes; she tried to blink them away but wasn’t entire successful. She tried to speak, to either thank Karani for her faith or worry that she wouldn’t be able to live up to it, but no words came up. Finally, she just leaned back into her sister’s embrace and rested her head on her shoulder, and the two sat there in silence for a long while, taking comfort in each other’s familiar presence.

///

Latharna opened the door to Ambassador Preas’s office and bowed her head as she stepped inside. “The doctors say I’m fine and ready to return to work, Your Excellency,” she said. “Reporting for duty.”

The Ambassador looked up from the computer terminal on her desk and smiled, though Latharna thought she still looked rather haggard around the edges. “Ah, good,” she said and gestured towards a chair; Latharna took a seat and folded her hands carefully in her lap. Though she’d been in Ambassador Preas’s office many times now, she still found it impressive. The room was large and open, with walls that were lined with bookshelves or decorated with paintings that depicted landscapes from Realtran Prime. The window behind the desk looked out over the Carann cityscape, which currently gleamed under the light of the morning sun. Collectively, it served to add to the Ambassador’s dignified, collected air.

Still, that composure seemed like it was being strained to the breaking point. “I trust you’ve heard of what happened last night?” Ceana asked, her voice weary.

“They were showing the news on the holo this morning,” Latharna said, nodding. “I saw it in the infirmary. Is it true? Has Tantos III really been taken by rebels?”

“I’m sad to say it’s true,” the Ambassador said. “I expected something like this sooner or later, but the rebels acted quicker than I’d anticipated. Among the people at large, Artakane is still popular, riding the wave of goodwill she won from defeating the Commander and that which she inherited from her mother. However, as I told you before, there are those in the aristocracy who resent her, especially Respen. Before Artakane appeared, he was Aestera’s closest living relative, and he believed the crown should have gone to him. The other two don’t have the blood connection, but they’re both highly ambitious. I expect they want to act now to knock Artakane off her throne before she can grow into her role and consolidate her power.”

“But won’t launching a rebellion just unite everyone in the Kingdom against them instead?” Latharna asked.

Ceana smiled thinly and shook her head. “This isn’t Realtran, Miss Dhenloc,” she said. “The central government is weaker in the Dozen Stars than it is back home, and the nobility is stronger. Most people are loyal to their duchies first and the crown second, and if the crown looks too weak, they’ll turn on it. That’s what the rebels’ game is – to force a crisis that will make Artakane look like an untried girl in over her head, to destroy the peoples’ faith in her and make them look for stronger leadership. Leadership that Duke Respen, at least, will likely be ready and willing to provide. Assuming his erstwhile allies don’t beat him to it.”

“That’s…” Latharna shook her head. “That’s maddening.”

“Of course, it is,” the Ambassador told her. “Why do you think Realtran opted for a parliamentary system when we split from the Empire? Less glamourous, perhaps, than a feudal one – but certainly more stable. Speaking of stability, there is something I want you to do for me.”

“Of course, Excellency,” Latharna said. “That is, after all, my job.”

The Ambassador reached down to her computer and removed something from its base; she placed it on the desk, and Latharna saw that it was a small portable drive. “Years ago, not long after Aestera died,” she said, “King Luagh grew concerned that Duke Respen might take the throne. Respen is an ambitious man who prides himself on the military strength of his duchy, and the King feared that he might set his sights on Realtran in spite of our long alliance if he came to power. The Prime Minister agreed with him, and so they instructed me to investigate Aurann and determine if the Duke has any particular weaknesses we could exploit. As it happens, he does – Respen is a brutal, autocratic leader. He’s efficient enough, but it’s the kind of efficiency that brutally uses people up, and that makes enemies. I found that there were a number of insurgent groups operating on Aurann and working against Respen’s rule. Some of them are little better than pirates, and I suspect Imperial funding at work behind them, not that I ever got a straight answer out of Quarinis on it. Others, I think, might be willing to work with Artakane should she promise to help them depose Respen. I’ve included information for how to get in contact with them on this drive. Take it.”

Latharna picked up the small drive, barely the size of the end of her little finger and regarded it carefully in her hands. “Why are you giving this to me?” she asked.

“So you can give it to Artakane,” Ceana said. “She’ll need all the help she can get to win this conflict and giving Respen a problem closer to home to deal with might help turn the tide. Call it a gesture of good faith from one ally to another. As for why I’m not giving it to her myself, you did save the Queen’s life, and she seems to have taken a liking to you. That’s a relationship worth cultivating that might benefit both our nations someday.”

“Of course, it is, Your Excellency,” Latharna said, dropping her face and trying with all the force of her will to avoid blushing. “I will deliver this information to the Queen if that’s what you need me to do.”

Ceana smiled shrewdly. “And I don’t suppose the fact that you have a crush on her and want to see more of her won’t influence that at all?” she asked. Latharna looked up, shocked.

“I… I don’t… what do you…” she managed to stammer out, but the Ambassador raised her hand.

“I’m old, Miss Dhenloc, not dead,” she said. “I remember what it was like to be young and can see the signs all over you. The heart wants what it wants. But remember, Latharna – you’re a citizen of Realtran, not of the Dozen Stars. There may come a time when you have to choose between your duty and your heart. I hope you won’t have to, but… be ready if you do.”

Silence fell for a long moment before the Ambassador spoke again. “Artakane had wanted to see you anyway,” she said. “Apparently she is under the impression that you would be open to sparring with her. She also seemed interested in borrowing your services for something, though she was evasive as to what. You’ll have to ask her that, if you’re willing.”

“I… thank you, Ambassador,” Latharna said, standing. “I had best take this to the Queen, then.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” the Ambassador said. “Artakane will want to know every weapon she has available when she’s making her plans.” She leaned forward and regarded her aide with piercing eyes. “Just… remember what we discussed.”

“I will,” Latharna said, bowing, and then she turned and left the room.

///

Pakorus was seated on his usual bench in the palace gardens, reading an epic from the Kingdom’s early days and trying to appear as normal as possible, when the small computer tablet he’d kept by his side suddenly pinged loudly. The young noble looked around himself surreptitiously, making certain that no one else was there, and then he picked up the tabled and pulled up the program that had given him the alert.

Waking up this morning to the news of Tantos III’s fall had sparked a determination in him to act. He’d seen his father, Arta, and Gilgam, among others, running about and looking ragged, and it had pained him that he hadn’t been able to do anything to help. But Pakorus held no position in the government, no military rank, and though he was heir to Orlanes Duchy, that by itself wasn’t enough to get him into classified meetings. A part of him felt that he was being treated as a child, even though he was legally of age, though rationally he knew that wasn’t the case – Karani was a few months older than him, and she wasn’t allowed into command meetings either. Still, the fact that he could do nothing for the Kingdom rankled him, and so Pakorus had made a decision.

He only hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be the wrong one.

The flashing light on his computer screen indicated that a new message had arrived, and he found himself breathing deeply as his eyes scanned it. Earlier this morning, using contact information he’d pried out of Gilgam and secret codes only ranking members of House ast Orlanes knew, he’d sent a message to the man his father had met with, the one Gilgam had spoken to, the mysterious information broker of Tantos Station – Specter. Now Specter, or one of his underlings, had replied. I RECEIVED WORD OF ATTACK ON TANTOS JUST BEFORE IT HAPPENED, the message read. TANTOS STATION SO FAR UNHARMED, BUT IF PRESENT SITUATION CONTINUES, I DOUBT THAT WILL LAST LONG. I HAVE DISCOVERED INFORMATION REGARDING RECENT EVENTS THAT I FIND DISTURBING, AND AM UNWILLING TO TRUST TO UNSECURED COMMUNICATION. I WILL SHARE IN PERSON, FOR A PRICE. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN MEETING WITH ME ON TANTOS STATION?

Pakorus read over the message several more times, breathing deeply. His father wouldn’t approve of this, he thought; Gilgam had pointed him in this direction, but probably hadn’t intended his information to be used in this way. Arta would probably think he was being irresponsible and reckless. Karani… Karani would probably just be mad he hadn’t brought her in it. But if it paid off, would it be worth it? What if this information Specter had turned out to be vital to the security of the Kingdom? What might happen if he sold it to someone else instead?

Pakorus exhaled heavily, then typed a single word. YES. Then, with a heart that was at once heavy and, despite himself, excited, he hit send.