Cleaning House (Thelas, Semi-open)
It had been late at night when ‘Fëaelenion nos Ancalimë,’ the imported Emperor of the Star-Empire of Thelas had been told of the latest international incident, an idiotic effort at the invasion of the Tor-Yvresse Mars colony, caused by the chronic and apparently automatic ineptitude of the Thelasi government. To be specific the incident had been precipitated by the ‘unconstitutional’ approach of the House of Governors, whose habits included voting themselves greater powers than they were ordained with.
Extracting himself from the bed where his wife slept and he worked silently, leaving Ithenril there, a little less comfortably without his presence, he had rounded up the Thelasi Palace’s complement of Tirn, the maligned elite of the Thelasi armed forces. A mere thirty, he’d felt, might not prove sufficient, and so he had managed to bring ten times that number of the regular Thelasi infantry to the governance district.
The time had come, Fëaelenion had decided, to remove the inflamed appendix of Thelasi governance, whose actions had wrought various foreign and domestic policy disasters, even into his own reign.
The complex containing the House of Governors and its peers was a modern structure made up almost entirely of one-way glass that reflected the moon and starlight of the night down into the eyes of Fëaelenion’s host as they assembled from armoured transports before it. Hastily dressed in garments that were a literal part of him, black fabric of the same living-metal as his body, with golden trim at its edges, he stood before the building, and turned to face his followers.
Two columns of soldiers, three wide, formed together, and the foreign Emperor’s voice carried easily on the night air as he gave instructions. “Set your weapons to minimum power, shoot any that resist, preferably in the limbs, I want them taken alive, and, try to look good for the cameras… Right, prepare to advance…”
The C’tan looked over his shoulder, he didn’t need to, but found the affectation set people at ease, and turned, taking up a position at the front of the columns. From his hand a blade appeared, forming itself into the thin blade of the swords the Thelasi used, flickering with ethereal blue light in the darkness. He dropped the sword to point forwards, and as one the Thelasi began advancing, boots ringing on the stone beneath them as they ascended the steps of the House of Governors…
OOC: It’s all being done on live holographic TV, so one can pass comment happily, though not intervene directly. Behold the dubious joys of the media!
"Well, this could certainly be interesting..."
Thanks to time differences between Menelmacar's home territories on Earth, and the distant Thelasi 'homeworld' - transmisison time had nothing to do with it, holovision broadcasts via quantum entanglement were nearly instantaneous - it was late at night when Idhrindiel nos Fithurin, decorated Mornahossë, was curled up on the couch with her lover Arnran, the necrontyr general. She wore a translucent black nightgown and little else, and leaned her head on his shoulder as they watched the broadcast, both rather amused by the foolishness of the Thelasi legislators.
"I don't suppose this will actually teach them anything," she commented as Feaelenion and his soldiers marched up the steps. ISN was, as usual, covering the matter live.
"Nah," he replied. "They're nearly incapable of learning from mistakes. It's... cultural, I think... though I've no idea what made them so daft. Perhaps Theallas rubbed off on the rest of them... or maybe when he originally left Menelmacar, it was simply those already like him that followed."
"Well, we'll see," she said after a moment's pondering. "I'd like to think they can change, but... you're probably right."
There were no soldiers at the door, which oddly enough was wide open. There were no soldiers to resist the Emperor as he marched up the stairs. Rather, there was silence, even from within the halls themselves. As Feaelenion and his soldiers entered the darkened halls, he could see that the soldiers had left their posts, presumably leaving the chambers and halls after the bill had been passed, realizing the danger of remaining in the great building.
As they neared the massive wooden doors of the main hall, a lone voice greeted them from the other side, “Lord Feaelenion, you are in violation of the laws of this land. Leave this building, then take your puppetry and that slut who you call a wife and leave our nation.”
A Tirn, his red and black armor shining softly in the pale moonlight, stepped forward “Sir, there is no one else in the building, and the security cameras indicate that none of the Governors have departed the building. Should I order the door taken down?” He turns to look at the great oaken door, plain and stoic, “We await your orders, Emperor.”
Fëaelenion’s response to the insult, was, all considered, rather more restrained than one might have imagined. He was above reacting to the barbs of the House of Governors – he didn’t care what they thought of him, so long as they served the interests of his people. And now, he’d decided, they didn’t.
“Shoot the hinges off,” he said, looking at the Tirn officer by his side, “Oh, and do give them time to stand back, shoot the ones at the bottom off first...”
He half expected one or many of the criminally inept Thelasi legislators to get themselves crushed under the falling door, but that was ‘not his concern’ apparently. He pressed a little against the door telekinetically at the upper end, to prevent it falling on him – something that would look rather embarrassing on the cameras. An ISN one nudged him on the shoulder, and he administered a brief ‘nudge,’ twitching his hand a little using the same medium that shot it across the entrance foyer – annoying thing, but then, he was used to those.
Commander Jarri, 473rd Advance Recon Commandos, sat with his large scaly feet propped up on his desk in his barracks office, watching the broadcast with a mix of amusement and respect. Clad in the gray off-duty BDU's bearing his rank on the upper arms, and his sidearm hanging lazily off his hip, relaxation was a higher priority than maintaining any sort of soldier-like bearing...
"He's playing the PR angle quite well, 'shoot them in the limbs'... A sharp crack on the back of the head with rifle-butt works just as well, but its looks like the MO is a blood-less house-cleaning and not some sort of Spetznaz bloodbath..."
Hands folded across his stomach, the Argonian commander continued his observation in silence. This new network option the base had added was paying off. The knock on his office door roused him from his stupor...
"Sergeant Kerrig reporting as ordered, sir..."
Jarri snarled softly, he'd forgotten about his nightly update meeting with his junior NCO...
"Disreguard Sergeant, no meeting tonight..."
The muffled voice behind the metal bulkhead door answered, then retreated in a series of softly clanking footsteps down the corridor...
"That settles that..."
He returned to watching the broadcast as the troops on screen began to blast the hinges off the chamber door. It wasn't often this sort of thing got broadcast on national holovision...
The Tirn behind Fëaelenion remained in their formation, four of the soldiers raising their shield arms, the two energy cannons visible under the tip of each bladed shield. Beams of energy lanced out for a split second, slicing through the massive hinges as if the did not exist. With a crash the door fell, and small arms fire, mostly full-automatic bolter-pistols from the body-guards of the governors, erupted from the chamber.
The Tirn reacted with calm, the projectiles harmlessly dropping to the ground inches before impacting the armor, and raised their weapons, plasma fire erupting from the under-shield cannons. Each burst fired with pin-point accuracy, striking the body-guards with enough force to knock them down and deal second and third degree burns over most of their torso, but not enough to kill them, yet.
If the Emperor had ordered, these soldiers would have gladly opened fire on the soldiers with full power, vaporizing large sections of flesh with each hit, instantly killing those without body armor, and grievously wounding those with the light protection that body armor afforded against the heavy cannons of the Tirn.
The Tirn disabled the body-guards in seconds, turning their cannons on the Governors, who were currently crowded in a corner, having watched their ill-planned attempt to take over control of the military fall to pieces before the elite of the Thelasi army.
The lead officer turned to Fëaelenion, “Sir, all active resistance has been silenced with non-lethal force. What do you wish us to do with these” he waves his right hand at the governors, “traitors.”
“Nothing with them now commander,” he said, gesturing offhandedly at the wounded guards, “remove them to a hospital.”
“I think you will find that you people are the ones in violation of the ‘laws of this land’ as you so dubiously put it. I am going to be fair, and say that although you have preformed a valuable function for past emperors, too incompetent or idle to actually carry out their responsibilities, your continuing efforts to grant yourselves more power and take over the military, thrusting it into pointless destruction for your own ends, will not be tolerated.
“You may consider yourselves unemployed. The Thelasi state has no further use of you. Some, indeed, many, of you are traitors, and do not think that you will escape justice for the criminal negligence and insurrection you have fomented. There will be no executions, and no torture,” he said it with meaning, glaring pointedly at some of the Governors, “And an upper limit on sentences of one hundred years. We gain nothing by cruelty, even to those who happily inflict it themselves,” another pointed stare. “Those of you who have not participated in the treason of your comrades, rest assured that the legal process will be observed and no-one will be convicted without evidence against them,” another glare, “If you have committed no crime, you have nothing to fear.
“Detain them,” Fëaelenion snapped, gesturing to the remainder of the Tirn, “and take them away, take them all away!”