THE CROWNLESS AGAIN SHALL BE KING
31 Jan 2019Corrigendum
(Previous Entry - RENEWED SHALL BE BLADE THAT WAS BROKEN)25 JAN 3305
“There it is,” Drusus Kane confirmed.
Cornelius leaned closer to read the summary of the IISS dossier on ‘Gendymion, Cornelius - alias Corrigendum’.
“Instrumental in the termination of renegade, traitor, terrorist leader, and former Imperial Senator, Kahina Tijani Loren - 29 April 3303,” Cornelius read aloud.
He permitted himself no reaction as the words settled. After a few seconds, Cornelius looked at Drusus, who tapped absentmindedly at his elbow with two fingers.
“The full account has been altered to match. We thought it made for the most convincing adaptation of actual events, given your record of bringing down similar cults and cells. The Emperor herself approved the changes. Your rank as a 'King' in the Naval Auxiliary has been reinstated as well.”
Cornelius remained stone-faced.
Drusus continued, “I would add a word of caution against making contact with what remains of the Children of Raxxla without a mandate from the IISS. Doing so may necessitate a closer inspection of your dossier, and it is possible your stated association with them may be called into question. I trust you understand.”
“Affirmative,” Cornelius said.
Drusus exited the file and extended hand. “It's good working with you again.”
Cornelius took the proffered hand and shook it. “Sir.”
He turned to leave Drusus Kane’s office, but a hand on his shoulder restrained him.
“Corri, there are big things coming. We really could use you right now,” Drusus said.
Cornelius sighed, lowered his head and turned, “Drusus, I am tired of being used. My days as an ‘asset’ are over. I assented to this last mission because it offered me the chance to move freely within my own nation again. I am not returning to regular operations.”
“Look, Corri, I’ll be blunt. The inter-superpower cooperative effort is tenuous, and in some ways it’s a facade. Agents from all sides are more active than we’ve seen in decades. If it weren’t for the Thargoids threatening the mutual destruction of all mankind, there would be war on a scale hitherto undreamt of in human history. Beside that, you are well aware of our domestic menaces. Threats to the Empire have never been more serious tha-” Drusus attempted.
Cornelius cut him off and shrugged the hand from his shoulder, “Don't give me that line, Drusus. Every time there was a crisis of any consequence you fed me that line. I refuse to give the Pavlovian response. The answer is No.”
“Very well,” Drusus said.
Cornelius turned once more and was relieved when Drusus neither spoke again nor followed. He strode with purpose down the corridor.
“That's him! That's Mordanticus!”
“Wow, they really did trot him out in front of the entire Senate.”
Cornelius slowed his pace as he approached a cluster of agents surrounding a holo-projector. It was a closed-circuit hololink between the Senate House and the IISS.
“Five credits says he’s going to start spewing Nova Imperium drivel to the Emperor’s face.”
“You're on,” another voice said.
Cornelius watched in amazement as the projection of the man he helped capture stood before the Imperial Senate in shackles. His bearing was proud and defiant. Senators came to their feet as Emperor Arissa entered the Senate House. Senator Denton Patreus, sabre at his side, bowed low, and followed the Emperor as she approached Kaeso Mordanticus.
“He’s a dead man,” one of the agents near Cornelius muttered in a low voice. Grunts of agreement rippled through the group.
A few tense moments passed in silence as the Emperor and Patreus closed the distance to where Mordanticus stood.
Then, without a word, Patreus drew his sword and thrust the weapon deep into Mordanticus’ chest. Cornelius was certain it pierced the man’s heart.
Gasps were audible across the hololink.
“Oh my-” an agent near Cornelius began. The sentence was cut short by the sounds of gunfire in the Senate chambers.
“The Imperial Guard…” someone else remarked.
The transmission carried the sounds of murmuring voices, shrieks here and there, mingled with groans and sobbing. Then came a stern, clear voice that pierced the din, “There is no Nova Imperium. There is only the Empire.”
The voice was that of Emperor Arissa, who stood over the exsanguinating corpse of Kaeso Mordanticus.
“Now there's a mic drop, and no mistake,” an agent said.
Cornelius observed the bodies of senators Pal Vespasian and Eloise Winterstone and others he did not recognize being dragged away, followed by the body of Kaeso Mordanticus. Cornelius couldn't help but feel he had purchased a new lease on life with the death of the man receding from his view. The pit of his stomach grew heavy.
“About that five credits…”
“They’re yours.”
* * *
26 JAN 3305
“Yesterday’s executions in the Senate were apparently only the beginning of a coordinated massacre. Nova Imperium members are being put to death, and citizens who supported them are being arrested for treason. In a single day, the isolationist cause has been crushed.”
“It seems that Emperor Arissa Lavigny-Duval – while being accused of weakness – has simply been playing for time, allowing Senator Patreus to position his agents for a simultaneous strike. With this show of strength, the Emperor has done much to silence her detractors.”
“Despite reactions of horror from some newsfeeds, Alliance and Federal leaders have made no official comment, perhaps relieved that inter-superpower cooperation against the Thargoids will continue.”
“Nova Imperium remains in control of the Paresa system, but with the organisation’s power base destroyed, it no longer poses a threat to the Imperial throne.”
* * *
31 JAN 3305
“I am curious what you intend to do now you’ve been granted clemency,” Ambassador Delaney said.
“To begin with, I think I need to take the advice of my physician,” Cornelius said.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Cornelius confirmed. “Following my incident in Nyalayan, it was recommended to me that I should ‘do some exploring’. I am told it is low-stress, and quite soothing for some commanders.”
Cuthrick blinked, then a smile broke across his lips and in his eyes. Rising laughter erupted from the Ambassador, and the elderly gentleman shed tears in his mirth. Cornelius was taken aback.
After a few moments, Cuthrick regained his composure. “I do beg your pardon. That was most unbecoming. The thought of you wandering among the stars like…”
The Ambassador took stock of Cornelius’ expression, “You are quite serious, aren’t you?”
Cornelius replied, “Yes, Ambassador. I am.”
“I need a drink,” Cuthrick said.
The Ambassador stood from his desk, and retrieved a large glass decanter and a copita from a nearby cabinet.
“Do you have a journey in mind?” Cuthrick asked as he poured himself a generous serving of Eranin Pearl Whiskey. He returned the decanter to the cabinet and returned to his place across from Cornelius.
“I’ve considered joining the Distant Worlds exped-”
Cuthrick coughed on his drink, but motioned to Cornelius to continue as he recovered.
Flustered, Cornelius proceeded to explain, “As I was saying, I’ve considered joining the Distant Worlds expedition, but there are scores of Children of Raxxla with that body of explorers. I must bear in mind the leverage some in the Empire still wield over me.”
“Go on,” Curthrick urged.
“To begin with, I think I will set out for the Crab Nebula. That has been a destination of interest to me for some time,” Cornelius said.
Cuthrick took another sip.
Cornelius continued, “And, as I understand it, some of Loren’s Legion have it in mind to do some travelling far afield themselves.”
“To the Zurara, and the Formidine Rift bases, yes.” Cuthrick confirmed.
“I may bend my course in that direction following my visit to the Crab Nebula,” Cornelius said.
“And from there?” Cuthrick asked.
“From there… I have two destinations in mind. To plumb the expanses of Thargoid space, or perhaps seek a seat on the Imperial Senate.”
Cuthrick coughed again as he sipped on his whiskey. He set the glass down, and gestured with an open hand. “If you are attempting to verify that I am actually listening to you, I assure you that I am. Now, tell me, are you quite serious?”
“Yes, Ambassador. I am trying to decide whether I should lend myself to the cause against the Thargoids, be that through strength of arms, or via my more native methods of guile, or whether I should consider a bid for a seat in the Imperial Senate.”
The Ambassador pursed his lips, and raised an eyebrow. He studied Cornelius. Cornelius grew uncomfortable under the gaze, but held his composure.
“L'appel du vide.”
“Excuse me?” Cornelius replied.
“L'appel du vide,” Cuthrick said again. “It means, ‘the call of the void’. I believe the void is calling to you.”
“I’m not turning into Jasmina Halsey, if that is what you are implying,” Cornelius said.
Cuthrick waved the thought away, “No, no, that is not what I mean at all. The call of the void is the term for the inexplicable urge some feel to engage in self-destructive behavior. One who would fight for his life under normal circumstances, yet have the thought rush through his mind to leap out into the air when he leans out from a tall structure to see the ground below; that is the call of the void.”
Cuthrick’s expression grew grave as he continued, “I wonder whether these sudden impulses, to engage in combat with the Thargoids, or to leap into the perilous world of Imperial politics in the wake of a purge, might stem from a form of l'appel du vide.”
Cornelius folded his arms, “No, I am not considering these options as a means to commit suicide.”
He leaned forward suddenly, opened his arms wide and held the edge of Cuthrick’s desk, “All my life I’ve sought to make a difference in my sphere of influence. As an agent of the IISS, I was a scalpel, working with surgical precision to excise the tumors of the Empire. In my service in the Legions, I’ve served as both shield and sword to defend Imperial border systems and strike out against threats to the Imperial way of life. And what do I have to show for it? What have I done that would not have been done in my absence? Who is to say things would not have been all the better without my labors? And Lady Loren…”
His voice caught as he spoke, “The plan failed...”
Cornelius removed his hands from the desk, sat back in the chair, and took a series of deep breaths. He reflected on his own words.
“Forgive me, Ambassador. There is much on my mind. In retrospect, I fear the void does indeed call to me after all,” he admitted.
Delaney nodded slowly, “They say ‘admitting is the first step’.”
“Counsel me, as a friend,” Cornelius asked.
Cuthrick pursed his lips in contemplation, then locked eyes with Cornelius, “I suggest you begin by following your physician’s counsel and your own good desires. Go explore. See the Crab Nebula, brave the Formidine Rift. As you traverse the expanse, use the opportunity to center yourself, and remember, you are needed here. Do not allow despair, regret, and failure to lie to you, to rob you of the knowledge that you have made a difference, a positive difference, in the lives of millions. Citizens of Prism, Sardandi, Yash, dozens of surrounding systems, have all been protected from the machinations of evil men who would do them harm. You know the state of the region when Loren’s Legion was born, look at it now!”
Cuthrick flung his arm in the direction of the windows, “And beyond those, consider the millions of refugees from the Pegasi Sector who made their escape and the billions who did not need to flee their homes because the expansion of the Kumo Crew was halted. Consider how their lives would have been different had you not rallied the disparate factions of the Empire to stand against the tide and push back against it.”
His expression and voice softened, “You have been missed these long months while you’ve been in captivity. We have done well in your absence, it is true, but things would not be as they are without you. When one can leave stability in his wake, that is the mark of success, not failure.”
Cuthrick collected the glass of whiskey, rolled the stem in his fingers, and took a sip. “When you return, I suspect you will have different goals, however, should you remain determined to stand against the Thargoids, or to seek high office in the Empire, you will set yourself to either task with the ardor native to you. Whatever course you choose upon your return, you will make a difference. You cannot help but do so.”
Cornelius sat paralyzed, streams coursing down his cheeks. He breathed shallowly. “Thank you,” he said at last.
“One last thing, Commander,” Ambassador Delaney said. “Fly safe.”
“I will.”
Cornelius stood and bowed low. Ambassador Delaney smiled, stood, and returned the gesture in accordance with Imperial protocol.