Emerald Repatriation Society: What is Done, is Done (Part 24)
13 Feb 2024Vasil Vasilescu
(<--Part 23)I had considered confronting Stefan about leaking that ERS had funded a war in Hixkaramu. He let our sister, Elena, be accused of leaking the information and did nothing when Octavia enacted the Abdicare against Elena. Now, Elena was seeking debt relief through the Imperial Slave Association. I wanted to know why he leaked the info and did nothing about the fallout.
Hell, Stefan might not even know why he did it. He was never a strategic thinker, never a planner. His thinking mirrored his hedonistic lifestyle, focused only on immediate gratification without considering the consequences of his actions. Did he do nothing to help Elena because he got whatever it was that he wanted from leaking the info, or was he just a cowardly, self-absorbed shit?
As much as I wanted to know his reasons, I knew he would deny everything if confronted, and I would never learn why he leaked the information. I had nothing to use against Stefan to force his confession, but what I did have was Jack Vaughn, one of Stefan’s trusted inner circle of reporters who received the leaked info.
Vaughn and I had come to an agreement that whatever information we shared with one another would be between us. We did not fully trust one another, though. I knew he would still be looking for scandal within ERS, just as he knew that I’d not share truly damaging information with him. However, I did have one thing that worked to my advantage: his guilt that I managed to save refugees he would have abandoned in order preserve his own life. I am certain that Vaughn will eventually bring me something I can use as proof against Stefan.
Whether or not Stefan ever confesses to what he did, I had to tell Octavia what a horrible mistake had been made with Elena. Maybe there was time to correct it.
Before leaving Vogulu for my meeting with Octavia, I told Vaughn I had some business to take care of on Emerald and offered to take him back. For now, I had what I needed from him and saw no reason to keep him on the Emerald Dawn. He declined, saying that he’d like to stay on board. He wanted to interview crewmembers and refugees because he thought there were good human interest stories to be found.
“A few feel-good stories might help promote the ERS,” he said. I suspected he also wanted to try and dig up some dirt, but as long as he was on the carrier, I could have security keep an eye on him.
* * *
One of the house slaves showed me to the large solarium of Octavia’s winter villa at the crest of Mount Maraldi. Intended mostly for receptions and other social gatherings, the semi-circular room with its seamless glass dome and walls offered an impressive view of the snow-dusted alpine valley.
Octavia did not keep me waiting, arriving at the time we were scheduled to meet. It was, in her own way, a show of respect. She did not feel the need to play her little power game with me of showing up late as a reminder that she was in change and that nothing started without her.
She came into the solarium dressed, as always, in the most expensive and most respected designer clothes. In this case, a custom tailored hanfu style dress of blue and gold silk with a broad, red sash cinched at the waist.
She wasted no time voicing her displeasure with my choice of ships. “Vasil, did you fly here in that common scout ship of yours just to irritate me? You know I hate seeing it out on the landing pad.”
“I’d not thought about that,” I said, though I had, and I knew she hated seeing the AspX. “It’s just that I’ve not flown the Always Lost for a while and I did not want it to get lonely. Next time I’ll bring the Type 9 if you think that would better match the villa’s aesthetics.”
Octavia looked at me, a mixture of disapproval and annoyance on her face. “You are not funny, no matter how amusing you think you are. Now, what is so important that you needed a private meeting?”
“It is about Stefan.”
Octavia signed. “Of course it is,” she said. “What is it this time, some debauched party of his spilling out into the streets?”
“He was the one that leaked our involvement in Hixkaramu.”
The normal, exasperated manner in which Octavia tolerated Stefan’s occasional social improprieties faded away, replaced by a serious, menacing tone. “How do you know this?”
“Jack Vaughn, one of the reporters Stefan leaked the information to, admitted it to me. I have no reason to doubt the man.”
“This is not good, Vasil. Not at all.”
“I know. I think we can still mitigate most of the things that have happened with Elena because of the Abdicare if we petition for a recension. I’m sure we can at least keep her out of debt slavery and bring her back into the family.”
Octavia looked at me as if I’d suggested we become paupers. “We are doing no such thing,” she said. “Do you realize what it took to convince Sir Halston to secure an Imperial Seal on her Abdicare in such a short time?”
“What the hell does that have to do with making things right for Elena?” Letting guilt and anger get the better of me, I snarled, “Dammit, Octavia, our sister is selling herself into debt slavery because of your Abdicare.”
“There is nothing dishonorable about debt slavery,” snapped Octavia. “And might I remind you that you were the one who first thought it was Elena.”
“And I carry that guilt, Octavia. I was wrong and I could have done more to keep things from getting out of hand. But now we know the truth. We have to do something to help Elena.”
“No! As Capul Familiei Vasilescu, I cannot afford the luxury of guilt over my decisions. Especially not decisions made based on the information I had at the time, which, again, was provided by you. The Abdicare et Recuperare has an Imperial Seal, meaning it was judged to be justified and warranted. To help Elena now would mean breaking the Writ of Abdicare and threatening the wealth of this entire family. Would ruining the entire family weigh on your conscience more or less than Elena?”
I said nothing. Octavia had referred to herself using the family’s ancestral language, something the head of the family did whenever they were dictating rather than discussing. Nothing I said would have mattered.
“Neither will I invite Imperial scrutiny by petitioning to rescind the Abdicare based only on the word of this reporter.” She spat out the word reporter like it was sour milk. “They deal in lies and rumors. Anything for a sensational headline. What is done, is done, Vasil, and that is the end of it!”
Octavia stood straighter, adjusting the line of her dress back to its perfect fit, her calm, cold demeanor returning. “Now,” she said, preparing to dismiss me, “You may remove that eyesore from my landing pad.”