NationStates Jolt Archive

tThis had once been known as the Crystal Palace. It had been one of the largest residences in the galaxy. Its crystal walls, stained-glass windows and maze of corridors had been famous, and if anyone had been allowed near it, it would have been a fabulous tourist attraction, set as it was in Novar Ohan's premier spaceport and capital city.

Now it was a smoldering pile of rubble, only one wing surviving the freak calamnities of just a few weeks ago. Its new master stood on the balcony of the Old Hall and reflected on this. Suitable, I suppose, that the first section to be built would also be the only section left. He had already considered, and rejected, the reconstruction of the remainder of the palace. Instead, he had ordered the restoration of this Old Hall, with rooms untouched for 5 Imperial Generations being opened and aired out. There had, of course, been some moments of serendipity.

The Imperial Crown had been recovered easily, and now but waited for him to undergo formal coronation. The palace chapel had survived with only minor scarring. And of course, the ancient Imperial Tombs, buried as they were deep beneath the surface, had survived to welcome their new, and final, resident. Emperor Alexander II. Alexander the Dark.

For now a new dynasty had come to the throne. And Cassander Drakharn, once ArchChancellor of the Empire and now uncrowned Emperor of Roania, was determined that it should not be buried in the shadows of its predescessors.

"Your Serene Highness!" An Imperial Special Officer, one of the Empire's Elite Officers, came onto the balcony and gave a salute. The coat of arms on his badge was still the Phoenix of the Blacks, as the Drakharn's Dragon Emblem could not fully supplant the Phoenix Cross until the coronation.

Nevertheless, certain indiscretions were not to be tolerated. Cassander rounded on the Officer, his dark eyes narrowing. "What was that?"

"Y-your Most Supreme Majesty!" The offending man stuttered, kneeling.

"Yes, Officer?" Cassander relented.

"We...we've found Damien."

Cassander's eyes narrowed once again, and he lunged forward, lifting the officer up by his shirt. "Duke Damien Black is alive?!"

"Y-yes sir. We have him in custody. He...he's in the entry-hall."

Cassander dropped the man to the ground and took off running, pausing only to shout back through the door, "Good work! Your nation thanks you!"




Damien Black stood amiably in the middle of the room. Around him armed men waited, unsure if they were watching a prisoner or acting as an honour guard. Occasionally, the Duke would twitch, leading some of the overtrained offiers to jump.

"Damien!" Cassander said, smiling as he came down the stairs. "What a relief it is to know you lived through the explosion!" He made eye contact with the other man, and almost immediately regretted it.

Damien's eyes, one a filmy grey, the other green, stared back up at him. Behind them, only an occasional flicker of intelligence showed. The Duke seemed to struggle for a moment, then he held up a clawed hand and waved haphazardly. "H-h-hello, C-c-cassander."

Cassander mustered his mental energies, always finding dealing with Alexander's nephew emotionally draining. "My condolences on the death of your uncle, Damien." He walked down the stairs and patted Damien on the shoulder, dusting some lint from the man's clothes.

"H-h-h-he k-k-kept m-me i-in a b-b-box, C-cassander. A c-c-cold a-and w-wet b-box." Cassander was surprised. Damien was exerting incredible effort to keep his stutter down. "A-are y-you go-going to k-keep m-me in a b-box t-t-too?"

Cassander reached for the man's normal hand, ignoring the already outstretched claws, and squeezed it gently. "I hardly think that's necessary, Damien. Do you?"

"W-w-what a-are y-you g-going t-to do w-with m-me? I-I d-don't w-want t-t-to b-be Emperor. P-people w-will l-laugh at me."

"I know, Damien." Cassander said, still smiling, even thought it became waxen. "And I promise I'm not going to let that happen." Cassander snapped his fingers. "Right now, Damien, I'm going to have you brought to a real room, and given new clothes, and real food. Okay? Trust me, I've never lead you wrong in the past, have I?"

Damien simply looked back down at his feet as he was led off by a servant, his club-foot dragging all the way. Cassander's smile remained until the Duke was taken from the room, and then he turned and shoved his own ArchChancellor against the wall. "What do we do about that?"

Nicholas d'Arquis retreated from his master's wrath, a policy that had always served him well as Inquisitorial Adjutant. "W-well, Your Most Supreme Majesty, Emperor Alexander's will most clearly left the throne to you and your heirs should he die without a son of his own." Nicholas began to sidle along the wall. "A-and Prince Adrik Alexei was disowned by Emperor Edward. Damien has no real..."

"I know that, you idiot!" Cassander raised his hand to strike Nicholas again. "But that won't stop someone from trying to set him up as a puppet. Unless you use the brains God gave you -- which, Nicholas, have much in common with those brains God gave a cauliflower -- to decide what we do about him."

"Well, we could kill him." Nicholas pulled a pencil from behind his ear and a notebook from his pocket, licked his lips, and then wrote that down.

Cassander paced in the middle of the room, in full view of all his soldiers. "Too messy and troublesome. Besides, the Emp...the old Emperor," Cassander corrected himself, "kept him alive out of pity. It would no doubt be suitable for me to keep that... man alive as well." Cassander sighed. "Then again, we might not have any other option."

Nicholas continued to write, turning a page, then looking back at his first set of figures. "...Exile? On a cost-to-benefit ratio, exile would probably work best. I suppose we could ask the BlackPort Blacks to take him, but they'd want that about as much as they want the Imperial Crown."

"Exile?" Cassander said, slowing. "Who on Earth would want that thing? I mean, where would we send him? The distaff Blacks seperated from the Imperial Branch so long ago that all they legally share is the name. I can't think of anyone not related to... oh no." Cassander reached up to cover his face, his shoulders shaking. "You can't possibly be serious."

"Sire, your emnity with the late, lamented Lady and Lord Walters aside, Miss Kigari is the only close relative of the Duke." Nicholas scrawled some figures once more, a frown on his face. "And if we convince her to pay for it, then we're not spending any money, either."

"..." Cassander resumed pacing, his expression deadpan. "I don't suppose you found Duke Damien's cell intact?" He asked a guard. Nicholas shook his head disapprovingly, and Cassander grimaced. "You will be the death of me with that soft heart of yours, ArchChancellor. All right, send a message to Miss Kigari inquiring if she'll take custody of her disfigured cousin or if we'll have to fling him into the star."

"Shall I include that part, Sire?"

"Yes, why not."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/Cassander.jpg
Cassander Drakharn, Emperor of Roania

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/Nicholas.jpg
Nicholas d’Arquis, ArchChancellor of the Empire

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/Damien.jpg
Damien

Nicholas considered the task ahead of him with something akin to dread. With a little sigh, he sat down and wrote out the full message.

Lady Walters,

You may have learned recently that your uncle,
Lord-Emperor Alexander Black, was
assassinated
by a band of desperadoes.
Without any legitimate
male heir, the throne has passed,
as according to Alexander's will,
to ArchChancellor Cassander Lucius
Drakharn.

However, we have recently learned that your
cousin Duke Damien also survived the explosion.
In the interests of the nation he can
not be allowed to remain on Roania,
and we were wondering if you would take h
im into custody?

I have been authorised to inform you that
our other option is to hurl him into our star.

All the best,

ArchChancellor-pro-tem Nicholas d'Arquis

New York City, North America, Tiburon

New York City always was a special case among North American cities. The city of the world and later the cosmos, it had the sole distinction of being home to everything. If there was an ism, an ethnicity, a sentient species, it could be found in New York City. For this reason, it was chosen as the home of the United Nations after the Allies of World War II had convened to create such an organization, and for a similar reason, it had been agreed upon by United North America, India, and Japan for the capital of the nation that was to become known as Tiburon. This city, home to legendary names since its inception, was also home to a former president of Tiburon. Currently a scientist at nearby Brookhaven National Laboratory and a brigadier general in the Aerospace Force Reserve, he was credited along with current president Abhinash Chandran (incidentally, this former president's running mate) for vaulting the entire nation into its current position from complete irrelevance.

And he had a rather surprising letter.

"They can't be serious. A star?"

"It's Roania, Nova. Of course they're serious. Sensibility is like platinum there."

*sigh* "Fine. Tell them we're coming to pick him up. We don't have the stamina to do this again though..."

"Likara certainly does."

A response was sent.

[Sent Via C-Net]
[To: ArchChancellor-pro-tem Nicholas d'Arquis, the Shadow Imperium of Roania and the Planet of Novar Ohan]
[From: MAJ Nova Starfighter, Tiburonese Aerospace Force, the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon]
[Subject: Re: Duke University]
[Classification: Type C Nonstandard]

ArchChancellor d'Arquis,

The two of us would be more than willing to accept the person of Duke Damien Black. We have already gained special dispensation from the Division of Defense of the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon for use of an ASR-L67, and shall be arriving at {time} at the designated location.

Sincerely,
BRG Nova Starfighter,
Lady Kigari Starfighter

And, at time t, an ASR-L67, specially cleared and quite certain of its use (to transport the Duke to the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon) had certainly made its descent towards Roania, carrying with great certainty within it a certain major and a certain titled woman.

The planet Novar Ohan never appeared to outsiders as it really was. Partly this was because Outsiders were discouraged from looking at it too closely from orbit. But mostly it was because the entire planet's surface was covered in a shimmering blue shield. Locked in geo-synchronous orbit above the north and south poles, spinning gently with the planet, were the two shield generators themselves, Pinnacles 1 and 2. All off-world visitors were intended to land here, go through customs, and then transfer to a shuttle taking them to the shuttleport of their choice.

Very, very few vessels were allowed to land on planet. However, the shield was opened for the shuttle to pass through, before it sealed again. Radio transmissions crackled back and forth for a moment.

'To Tiburonese ASR-L67, please continue at your current heading 5 clicks, you have been cleared for landing at the Imperial City Shuttleport, Bay 79. Faith and Duty. Over.'

Ten minutes later, the silvery spires and domes of the Imperial Capital sprang from the surrounding cityscape. Jets and shuttles began to fill the skies. The radio began to pick up snippets of communications from down below.

'And I say to you that the Lord is...'

'Tired of your ordinary household maintenence drone? Why not come to...'

Soon the shuttleport became visible, and eventually a large growing 79 appeared on the ground. The Controller contacted the shuttle again. 'Attention Tiburonese ASR-L67, you have been cleared for landing. Please commence.'

(Yeah, I know I said I'd wait for you, Tibby. But I was inspired...)

He was almost always to be found here, sitting at the side of his wife. That could be considered over-protective. More realistically at this point, it could be considered devotional. What it most definitely was, however, was predictable. "...I know you're behind me, X." The man said, not making a move to turn around.

A phase-cloak ruffled in the breeze, and X placed a hand on the man's shoulder. Its mechanically hidden voice showed not a trace of compassion, but the man knew it was there. "...you can not remain here forever, William."

"I can, X, and I will."

"I doubt very much it is what Her Ladyship would want."

"And who can know what her Ladyship would want? Certainly not I, X. Perhaps you can see into the hearts of the dead, but I can not." William pressed a finger against the engraved face of his wife. "Why have you come?"

"Alexander is dead, William."

"I have heard. And Cassander is Lord-Emperor now. I wish him joy of it. If he expects me to come to him and pledge fealty, he's grown stupid since I saw him last 30 years ago." William sighed and sat down on the edge of the marble tomb. "...that's not what he wants, is it."

"He earnestly desires that bygones be bygones. You are as aware as I am that the new Emperor's complicity in Alexander's crimes against you is limited." It was obvious that X's voice hid exasperation, as those who dealt with the SpyMaster on a daily base realised that the more coldly formal X became, the more likely it was that X was allowing you to live as payment for past services. "You have him to thank for your life, William. Perhaps you should consider that next time you..."

William started to laugh. It was deep and slow for a moment, then it built up, higher and higher until it was almost the cackle of a madman. "I owe him my life?! I owe him nothing! I would rather be dead! I would rather be dead than spend every day and night alone! I would rather be dead than have people flinch whenever I look at them! Alexander took away my daughter, and Alexander took away my wife, and Cassander took away my freedom! All Emperors are the same!"

X waited patiently. "What one Emperor takes away, another can return." The Spymaster reached into its voluminous cloak and withdrew a sheet of paper. "An invitation from the Lord-Emperor of the Divine Imperium of Roania to you, requesting that you be present for the return of a certain Miss Kigari Starfighter, William."

William reached for it, scarcely believing it. X kept it out of his grasp, waving a gloved finger angrily. "Let's hear no more nonsense-talk, William. I want, and I'm sure His Supreme Majesty agrees with me, you to be on your best behaviour for Miss Kigari's return. This is a favour he and his cabinet are offering you. Just one. There will be no second chance." X sat down and fanned itself with the paper. "Do we have a deal?"

William scowled. "...if there wasn't a 33% of you being a woman underneath those robes, X, I would kill you right now."

"Oh, I am truly terrified. Your threats are meaningless to me, William. The transport is waiting for you outside. You have 15 minutes." X left the paper on the side and stood up, then walked outside.

William sat there, his head in his hands for a long moment. Then he slowly leaned forward to kiss his wife's cheek. "...I'll be back as soon as I can be, my beloved Anastasia." Then he picked up the paper and walked out to the transport.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/LordWalters.jpg
Lord William Walters

Beams of light from the local star pours into the windows of the craft, illuminating the landscape of Novar Ohan. The craft banks and slows as it prepares for landing. Inside, Nova turns his head away from the windows and nuzzles Kigari briefly, kissing her neck. "Kigari?"

"Mmm?"

"Have you ever met this Damien?"

"Not really, no, although he was apparently in my uncle's custody. Poor thing."

Upon arrival, the two quickly exited the craft and stepped, finally, on Roanian soil, for the first time in a long time for both.