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| − | == '''Chapter One''' ==
| + | Alexia Khan walked into a rather seedy and disreputable establishment. 'Leonard's Cavern' was bar off the side of the North Piett Academy but not one attended by the elite of the students. The barely lit hyperpool hall and gambling parlor had a considerably lower class clientelle. It happened to be a location for students who wanted trouble to go to. Exactly where the man Alexia needed most should be found. |
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| | + | The tavern reaked of smoked stelium crystals, whiskey, and grime. The barely illuminated nature of the place helped conceal the patron's faces. A couple of barely functional holoscreens showed Crion gladiator fights and zoom bike racing on the backwall. The sun glowed brightly in the noonday sky but a half dozen people were already passed out drunk. A small group of students were next to a battered group of bystanders that looked out of place in such a disreputable locale. |
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| − | '' "VICTORY-CRION STAR CLUSTER! THE WAR IS OVER!"''
| + | "You people make me sick! You and the rest of your race are living fat off the glorious pureblooded Crion citizenry!" Elton Prescott the Third said as the genoid beat a smaller dark headed man. Hardly a fair fight given the slight fellow was being held by one of Elton's classmates. Alexia guessed the boy to be one of the many disliked minority groups that had been created by Crion's gene conscious society. She personally couldn't tell the difference between Crion's artificially created ethnic groups. |
| − | -Interstellar News Network Holo-edition Headline 68:28:21
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| − | Cassius Vhell shined as an extraordinary example of the human race in many respects. Proud, arrogant, and haughty were things that one could see just by the way the man carried himself. Humanity hadn't had a formal aristocracy for centuries but they still believed in rulership by birthright. Cassius lived as an example of the new ethnic peoples that had been created by humanity's evolution. His long blonde hair of golden silk mixed with almond shaped black eyes to make an exotic figure to those of Earth. His scarlet uniform might have seemed the product of a military tradition far older than the S.E. calendar. Its ruffles and long tailed coat was accompanied by a baton of office that made him look like he was about to go hunting foxes on horseback. | + | Elton blonde haired man with eyes almost like Cassius. They were about the same height and weight even though the Crimson Prince happened to be ten years Elton's senior. Prescott proudly wore the paramilitary uniform of a Crion Allegiance special serviceman. Stripes that made him appear to be higher ranking than his fellows, despite no such divisions existing in the Allegiance. Given Prescott had been kicked out of the military for his insubordination, it was no surprise he resented his loss in rank. |
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| − | It was the year 583 of the Space Exploration Calendar. Mankind had stretched further in the past four hundred years of those centuries than he had in all of the previous eras combined. The discovery of welft-drives, a way of making space travel practical by bending rather than breaking the laws of physics, had allowed man to travel throughout the galaxies of the universe looking for other intelligent life forms. They had been found but it had not been the glorious discovery that man had hoped for. | + | "Help...." a bruised blonde girl lay on the ground beside Prescott's feet even as yet another student had a knife drawn on her. |
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| − | 'We are the flotsam of the universe in the eyes of the alien peoples. Perhaps a deserved title with the way we war on one another,' Cassius observed while traveling through the halls of his spaceship. Man had never discovered a way to replicate terrestrial gravity and he instead floated down through the hallways. The current circumstances of his trek was enough to destroy most of his faith in humanity's ultimate good will. | + | "You stay down! We're going to show your boyfriend what a real man can do," Elton snapped down at her. "You may even like it." |
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| − | Man found itself dwarfed by the technological accomplishments of his neighbors and the majority of species chose to pay the upstart race little or no heed. Of the great intergalactic community of the Grand Union.....man was denied membership. Instead, the human race returned to its colonies and attempted to eke out a habitual existence on the countless asteroids, bleak planets, and space debris that few others cared to claim. | + | "Ahem," Alexia Khan coughed into her fist. |
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| − | 'And it is a greater irony that we end up fighting over these cast offs of the greater galactic community,' he thought through gritted teeth. 'Abominable.' | + | "Do you want some?" Elton spun around and pulled a energy pistol from his back pocket. He aimed it right at Alexia with a sneer. |
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| − | Cassius' foul attitude could not be seen save in the slightest quiver of his lips even as the man continued to float towards the hangar bay. Colonel Vhell of the United Central Powers of the Free Colonies was attempting to keep a air of dignity to himself while he returned from the washroom to the agonizing surrender taking place onboard. Had it been solely his choice then he would have fought to the bitter end but his superiors had compelled him on the grounds that his soldier's lives were more important than his pride. Cassius had agreed with them on that point for he knew the majority of the Central troopers had grown sick of the endless war against the Allied Earth Federal Planets. | + | Then Alexia narrowed her eyes. It only took a second for Elton to visibly pale. |
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| − | "Crewmembers are advised to remember to avoid the armories and other restricted locations during these proceedings. Only authorized personnel are allowed to enter as a gesture of good will towards our guests," A automated female voice repeated another ridiculous message that reminded him that they weren't at home on their own flagship. | + | "Mistress Khan!" Elton immediately entered a salute. Prescott's followers did the same and let their victim fall to the ground. The beaten couple then screambled to their feet before making a break for the door. |
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| − | Judged by his own standards, mankind had thrived on their claimed worlds. However, mankind's relentless ambition never allowed them rest and they had constructed vast machines that they ultimately turned upon when they became too human-like. The great technology that had allowed them to travel the stars and transform worlds into paradises were lost as they refused to trust in artificial beings made in their image. Only recently did the people of Earth discover substitutes and reconnect with their lost colonies. This predictably lead to war. | + | "Lousy pieces of...." the blonde haired student lifted his gun to blast the fleeing man's head in. |
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| − | 'I hope I can avoid vomitting before this surrender is through,' he made one last thought towards his own disdain at the treaty they were signing. | + | "Let him go. Genetrash is none of your concern right now," Alexia pushed the gun down with her forefinger. |
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| − | Cassius eventually emerged into the vast chamber of the Odin-class battlecruiser’s hangar. The Odin had been the flagship of the Central Powers and now was serving as the location where the United Earth Federation's forces were eagerly gloating over their submission. Well over a thousand people were visible underneath the eleven foot tall armored spacesuits and ball shaped starfighters. The white suited UEF admirals and generals looked especially smug against their defeated black uniformed associates. The most important members of the 'Seven Sisters Conference' were sitting across from one another at two half circle tables placed strategically in the center of the room. | + | "Yes mistress," Elton returned to saluting. |
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| − | 'This is the worst day of my life,' Cassius said before pulling out a handkerchief to rub down his face. 'My own relatives are signing away our future.'
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| − | The 'Reclamation Wars' as the Interstellar News Network called it, pro-Federal shills that they were, had been an attempt by Earth and its closest systems to re-institute 'homeworld rule' upon all extant colonial people. Some of the colonies had been free for over two centuries and had developed radically different forms of government. Cassius' own home world of Crion was a brutal military dictatorship that believed very strongly in genetic engineering in order to produce better human beings. Cassius was not politically 'in-step' with most of the ruling party on a variety of issues, most notably human rights, but he'd come to his planet's defense when called. The UEF promised to be generous in victory but he'd seen no signs that life under them would be any better than under the old regime.
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| − | "You can tell you're an officer Cassius. I'm taking bets amongst the troops of which one of you will commit suicide first," a feminine voice spoke beside him. It was a whisper that was meant to be humorous but Cassius didn't particular find anything funny about the statement.
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| − | Major Serena Vhell was one of his squadron and his executive officer. The woman was athletic with a pilot's body and short brown hair that she kept dyed green for her own reasons. Her blue eyes were her most striking features and rather engulfing. She was not a 'pretty' girl per say but had a quality about her that many men found irresistible.
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| − | Serena and he had been betrothed since childhood but neither of them had taken the engagement very seriously. Cassius dallied where he pleased and Serena viewed him as an older brother. Nevertheless, they remained the closest of friends and the Colonel doubted that he ever could have made it throughout the war without her influence.
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| − | "We were the people in charge of conducting this war Serena. It falls upon us to bear responsibility for the failure to win it," Cassius answered her. "All of the soldiers under us will go back home to their families in disgrace to the common civilian. That will be a fate worse than death for many."
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| − | "You're always so damned serious about this. Can't you be grateful that the war is over?" Serena shook her head. "It was either this or utter annihilation and I can't imagine even your sense of honor goes that far."
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| − | That happened to be the worst part really. The destruction of Terra-2 had been an utterly vile action of an appalling regime. The Earth Allies had used mass drivers to pelt the oldest and most established of the extra-solar colonies with asteroids. The casualties had been in the hundreds of millions and it had resulted in the world becoming unlivable. The Federals had claimed that it had been the work of renegade biomechanoids or even the actions of the Central Powers themselves in an internal dispute. Cassius knew that had to be a lie since he had faith in his superiors that they would never do something so utterly barbaric. The final result had been their negotiated surrender. A surrender that might as well have been unconditional for some of the outrageous demands that were being agreed to.
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| − | "If it were a few centuries earlier my dear Serena then I would have thrown myself on my own sword," I responded to her. "Such grandstanding is the coward's way out though. I need to show that....though we've lost, we still have our dignity."
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| − | Ensign Ishikawa Amada struggled in his uniform as the man expected to stand at attention for the entirety of the surrender proceedings here. Ishikawa Amada was a medium sized young man of Japanese descent even though he had been born on Luna and spoke French as his native tongue. The boy of nineteen had been part of the Universal Draft that had fielded two entire generations of Earth friendly humans in order to face down the 'evil and rapacious' colonists of the Central Powers.
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| − | 'Man, I am glad that this is over with...' Amada thought to himself. Over a billion members of the Allied Armies had been killed and no one could guess how many had died amongst the civilian populous. What had been meant to be a quick show of force designed to cow the colonies into submission had turned into a nightmare unparalleled in human history. The Ensign couldn't comprehend why anyone in their right mind would fight as fiercely for their government as the Central Powers had done. Amada's own father had been barely a factor in his family because he'd only been allowed leave to sire the next generation. Ensign Ishikawa's own mother had worked long hours building shell casings.
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| − | "Hey, is that the Crimson Prince?" Ishikawa felt a tap on the shoulder and as a feminine finger pointed towards a figure in a scarlet uniform that looked like he'd stepped off a romance novel cover. The person doing the tapping happened to be Cadet Katsuragi Motoko, one of his associates from the Earth Federation Jupiter-class carrier Meneleus. Motoko had long dark hair and round blue eyes that made her stand out amongst her fellow crew. She'd been a volunteer as opposed to a draftee and hadn't made many friends outside of Amada.
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| − | "I...guess it could be. Didn't someone shoot him down?" Amada said as he looked over at the man.
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| − | The Crimson Prince existed as a sort of a propaganda symbol gone wrong for the Federation. Cassius Vhett had shot down an absurd number of starfighters and small capital ships during the war. A good part of that had to do with the fact that the Prince happened to be a crafty and sneaky soldier whom always chose to make surprise attacks whenever possible. The hit and fade tactics had been exaggerated by fleet gossip into his being supernaturally talented in the cockpit. The UEF had decided to make an example of him by making a massive manhunt for him along with offering an absurd bounty for his head. It looked like it had never been collected and the man had gained a reputation as noble foe. It was exactly the opposite of what the Federation had wanted.
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| − | "Do you think he's a real Prince?" Motoko asked a stupid question while they were both given some nasty looks from their fellow officers. Given it had already been four hours, Ensign Ishikawa couldn't have cared less. Discipline had started to break down towards the end of the Reclamation Wars with Earth terrified of its own forces starting a mutinee. The only reason the Meneleus had been chosen for this proceeding was because it was one of the few ships that didn't look like a collection of pirates.
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| − | "No," Amada said under his voice back to her. "They just made that up because he's from Crion and they all look like that."
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| − | The planet Crion was the heart of the Central Powers and the one that would be hit hardest by the Treaty of the Seven Sisters. The planet was run by a fascist dictatorship and had been the most tireless enemy of Earth during the war. They had employed cloning, genetic enhancement, cybernetics, robotic drones, and other forbidden technologies to make sure that they didn't lose. It's ironic that Terra-2 had been the only planet totally destroyed in the war when few would have mourned Crion's disappearance.
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| − | "Huh, I heard he was the President's nephew or something..." Motoko observed while gazing rather longingly at the man. Amada would never have guessed that she was the type to like pretty boys.
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| − | Ensign Ishikawa had originally been assigned to be a communication's officer but had ultimately been reassigned to the casualty prone starfighter corps. Unlike most members of the 'Cowboys' as they'd been nicknamed, he had no particular pride in his work. There's nothing 'elite' about killing other people and he wished he could just return home. They were promoting him to full Lieutenant for his high kill scores but he didn't expect anything but a few worthless medals for what he'd done in the war. They'd already reneged on most of the veteran's benefits to be paid to those whom had suffered for the Reclamation Wars. Amada didn't expect better treatment than most.
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| − | "At least it's over," Motoko muttered and offered her hand to Ishikawa Amada. It's an unexpected gesture since they'd been nothing more than friends the entire time that they had known each other. Nevertheless, Amada took a moment to look at Motoko in a new light with the recent events. Perhaps the future wasn't so uncertain after all.
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| − | Fleet Admiral Dolze Zebullon would have preferred to chew on broken glass than sit at this table. The dark skinned man in his mid-fifties was the sole remaining ranking Naval officer of the Centralists. The remainder of fleet command had been systematically hunted down and eliminated in a campaign of assassination. Given the majority of the political leadership had been slaughtered in the destruction of Terra-2, Dolze often debated whether or not he should declare himself the interim leader of the entire UCP.
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| − | The black uniformed figure could be seen on every holofeed in the galaxy at least once a week thanks to his high profile nature. Admiral Zebullon was difficult to forget with his tall height, graying hair, and muttonchops. The man had passionately railed against the Allies at every occasion and lead numerous attacks against them even in times that were normally reserved for peacetime like Universal Holy Week. The Admiral's victories had even won him the acclaim to receive his own customized twelve mile long battlecruiser in the Mjonir. The Odin, the vessel that they were currently having this shameful mockery of a surrender on, was the Mjonir's sistership and one that he felt would never recover its glory after this day.
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| − | The Admiral leaned back in his chair while the Earth's representative continued to drone on about how economic reparations would benefit them both while simultaneously condemning millions of colonists to virtual slave labor. If he had been a less controlled man then he would have lept across the room and strangled the Sol-system born fool to death.
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| − | 'But you're not a less controlled man are you? You also know that your coup wouldn't work and it would just mean fighting your own countrymen,' Dolze cracked his knuckles before sitting back upright. He had been at this shameful mockery of a proceeding for far too many hours to care one whit about its historical importance.
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| − | The problem with declaring martial law had to do with the man beside him in Isaac Crion. Isaac Crion wasn't technically the King of the planet that bore his name but he might as well have been. The man's bloodline had regularly held the position of President for Life since the establishment of it at the colony's foundation. Isaac Crion had only been leader for five years but the man as much popularity as any other leader before him.
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| − | Isaac Crion loomed as fat man that wasn't going to win any beauty pageants. The old man was leathery in skin and at least thirty years past his prime. Isaac's jowls hung over the side of his cheeks and the little fez that rested upon his head was almost comical to look upon. Nevertheless, the sash across his formal attire contained hundreds of medals for his charitable works as President. Isaac had kept the people motivated with regular speeches over public holo-vision and made it clear that they had nothing to fear but panic.
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| − | 'We know that's not the case, though, now is it?' Dolze willed death upon the man. Isaac's offer to negotiate a surrender to Earth after the destruction of Terra-2 had come as a surprise to all of the remaining officers. Even if Earth had decided to annihilate one of their most important worlds, the UCP was hardly defenseless. They could have staged a counterattack on Earth itself and destroyed that planet. It would have probably cost a half-billion lives but it would have ended the war right there. That would have been what Dolze would have done.
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| − | "Your tea sir," Alexia Khan spoke as she came up behind the table with a tray of metallic cups. Each of the cups contained a thick, steaming, and green fluid that was laced with a mild intoxicant. Alexia Khan was President Crion's secretary and, more recently, Dolze's mistress. The young redheaded girl with piercing green almond eyes was someone that Dolze had enjoyed passing the time with. Her attire was black and somber with the ascot wrapped around her neck giving her the look of a person in mourning. It was appropriate attire for the occasion and her sense of occasion was one of the reasons he enjoyed trysting with her. The Admiral's own stately wife back on Crion was someone that he had no desire to return to even during the loneliest months of the war.
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| − | "Thank you," Dolze said as he accepted the tea directly from her hand rather than take it from the tray. It was an odd but meaningful gesture to him.
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| − | President Crion drank down his own tea like it was a beer at a tavern. As cowardly and thick headed as he considered the President, the Admiral also knew that he wasn't enjoying this either.
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| − | 'If only you'd die then the world would be a very different place,' Dolze thought to himself while rubbing his chin.
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| − | Earth Federation's representatives were smug and eager to press their advantage over their surrendering foes even as the military behind them was less than pleased with their gusto.
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| − | 'You morons are going to start the war all over again!' Space Marshall George Spiegel thought. The balding, rotund, white bearded, and short man wouldn't be someone that you'd expect to hold the highest position in the Allied Federal forces. Nevertheless, George held the loyalty of his men and was the mascot of the war effort on Earth's side. In the same way that many generals of the past had become synonymous with their conflicts, Spiegel was on posters and holo-reports every time one searched out information on the conflict. The sixty-six year old soldier had risen through the ranks from the early days in the war to the very end that he hoped to see through.
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| − | 'That is, if these fools don't destroy us with their greed!' George thought while he chewed on his cigar. The tobacco product wasn't lit because Spiegel been through three of them already in this never-ending meeting and didn't want to go through more.
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| − | The Space Marshall was unique amongst the Earth Federation forces here today in that he actually remembered what life was like before the war. Life on the homeworld had degenerated into a series or rationings, drafts, and state induced quotas for births. The colonies had resisted tooth and nail with the pacification of over a hundred planets necessary. 'Unification' had become a nightmare and most people didn't have a comprehension of what they had lost thanks to the inept bungling of the war effort.
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| − | George, privately, bore no ill will towards the lost colonies of space. When Earth had turned against the biomechanoids and artificial intelligences that made space travel practical, billions had been left stranded away from the homeworld's support. The starvation and suffering must have been terrible before they'd developed self-sufficiency. It was a disgusting and dirty act to try to make them obey again but by the time George had a command position, there were too many dead just to stop it.
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| − | "This doesn't look good. The war reparations alone are impossible after twenty-three years of war," Mirallia Dane spoke in an aside to the Space Marshall. Mirallia happened to be the youngest General currently in service to Federal High Command. Only in her late-twenties, Mirallia had been appointed the replacement for her father as head of Allied Intelligence. The woman was dark haired with a soft face and kept her hair braided down the left side of her shoulder. Her eyes were a pale shade of gray and there was a sadness to her that came from having lost a husband, two brothers, and her parents during the war.
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| − | The Marshall muttered back to her "Earth's in for a nasty surprise anyway. Most people don't remember how to go back to just making money. The end of the war's announcement has already got food riots, oil riots, and every other type of riot going on from Luna to Icarus."
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| − | Marshall Spiegel privately believed that they needed another war and soon in order to keep society moving forward. Societies didn't easily move out of a frame of mind built for killing to one built for peace. The Marshall would have much preferred it to be against one of the nearby alien species as opposed to his fellow humans though. Despite the conventional wisdom of Earth Federation's Congress, the Marshall knew there were other races out there that weren't as advanced as humanity or were on a position of parity. A victory against one of them could move mankind from a constant state of battling itself to one where they could work to take the stars.
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| − | "Well spoken. Peace could not come at a more disadvantageous time," Mirallia replied before crossing her legs. That was when she looked towards Isaac Crion just before the President of Crion Space started to choke.
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| − | The sudden seizure that overwhelmed President Crion was caught on Interstellar News Network for the entire galaxy to see. The agonizing gasps of the man caused the delegates around to freeze and no one to come to his aid while he collapsed out of his chair. Colonel Vhell moved to be one of the first individuals to the fallen president's side. The Crimson Prince held the three hundred pound frame of the older man steady even as he writhed in agony for several seconds before going still.
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| − | "No! SIR!" Cassius Vhell shouted while trying to shake the man back to consciousness. Cassius Vhell did not agree with the terms of surrender even if he had reluctantly acquiesced to them. Nevertheless, his respect for the older man glowed greater than any other individual in the entire Central forces. This was partially due to the fact that the Vhell family had blood ties to Isaac Crion. Cassius never would have been able to rise to the high rank he had and make the necessary changes to starfighter policy if not for the fact they knew him as Crion's great nephew.
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| − | 'You can't die like this! Not when we're so close to peace!' his internal thoughts shocked him. It was a silent acknowledgement that his warrior's exterior wasn't nearly so deep as he'd hoped. 'You dare humiliate us like this and now have the gaul to die!?'
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| − | Cassius was only dimly aware of the flashing of the holo-cameras and bright lights even as the world watched him. He couldn't even move from the spot when the Doctors were summoned from the medical bay to try to revive the President. Instead, Colonel Vhell had to be dragged away by security from the fallen form of the man. His stunned state was not due to his connection to the older man. Cassius was a fighter pilot but he'd seen many battle dead up close during the hell of war. He'd lost enough friends to develop a certain amount of stoicism to the process. No, what left him in a fugue was the realization that Crion's attack looked far from natural.
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| − | "Well that's a magazine cover for the ages. What were thinking!?" Serena slapped the side of her superior officer's arm with a glove. "Were you just going for a holo-op?"
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| − | "I think it's poison...." Cassius started to mutter inconsolably. Memories of walking amongst the twisting and rotting bodies of Federal bases filled him with a sickening feeling "I've seen that look before. In the victims of neurotoxin. I dropped the gas enough times on troopers. In liquid form its almost instantly lethal but the gas form takes hours to kill..."
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| − | Chemical weapons were the preferred tool of Crion against the forces of the Allies. Advances in medicine had resulted in the average soldier becoming nearly invulnerable to disease or poison but that merely forced the scientists of the enemy to come up with even more deadly toxins. Cassius hated the 'bombing' runs and had almost exclusively restricted his flight to space-born combat from the moment he had high enough rank to make his own orders. If the President had been killed with 'White Death' then he had almost certainly been killed by parties in the Central Powers.
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| − | "That's ridiculous! Who in their right mind would try to derail the peace talks now?" Serena Vhell looked up at him in disbelief. His betrothed seemed genuinely confused as if she couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that there were many that wanted to see the President dead for this. There were already reporters working their way through security to talk to them though.
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| − | "Vultures," Cassius sneered before reaching to his pistol holster. The weapon was, of course, absent since they'd made it a point to disarm everyone onboard before letting the Federation representatives onboard. It had been a humiliating gesture, just like having the surrender on their flagship, meant to show the Central forces had been thoroughly cowed.
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| − | "You are never going to survive in civilian life," Serena shook her head at Casvall's gesture. She then grabbed the man she'd been raised to marry by the arm and started to drag him away from the scene. The look on her face betraying the sudden jolt of fear in her heart that they were about to go back to war once again. If so, she wanted to take the man she regarded as her brother as far away as possible from any scene that might ensue. "Come on, let's go."
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| − | "Don't you feel anything for our President's death?" Cassius noticeably didn't say 'uncle' or 'patriarch' despite the fact that those bonds should have been stronger than national fervor. At least, Serena held that opinion. She sadly felt like she in a very small minority.
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| − | "I feel a great deal of apprehension. It's possible they can revive him though," Serena said even as they were stopped by security. It was foolish of her to think they could leave that room without being detained. Even if they were both regarded as war heroes by the Central powers, they were no doubt going to be included amongst the suspects for this cowardly act of assassination.
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| − | "Don't think it for a second. The poison causes irreparable nervous system damage," Cassius answered her before turning to gaze out one of the viewing windows in this section of the hall. Even on a battleship like the Odin, it happened to be necessary to make some allowances to aesthetics and there was no greater cure for claustrophobia than showing the great vastness that lied outside their thin hull.
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| − | 'I wonder if Earth seeing all of these stars so close together as the reason they can't comprehend we're very far away from their influence,' Cassius had a peculiar observation occur to him.
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| − | Cassius had often looked out to the stars for answers as a boy. The planet Crion had not become so sick with pollution and skylights that the brightness of space could not be appreciated. It's this strange sentimentality that separated the man from the rest of his people. No other member of the Crion military would likely stop to think about stars at a time like this. Most of his colleagues would have called it a weakness, Serena included, but it was from this strange vulnerability to fantasies that he derived his intuition during battle.
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| − | "Then the peace process is dead," Serena looked down as she thought of those friends she'd lost.
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| − | Serena Vhell had no love for the leader of the Crion family. Despite his supposed fondness for peace, the old man had been a terror to his family. Cassius had been brutalized and intimidated into becoming the man he was while Serena had been literally dragged from her parent's home to become his wife. A Doctor's appointment had determined that she had a good genetic compatibility with him. It would have been easy to hate him if not for the fact that he was as much a victim as she.
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| − | "Not necessarily," The blonde haired man pushed aside his hair from his face. Cassius took the time to bind it behind his head in a ponytail, an action he usually took before battle. "The choice will ultimately lie with the military now. It'll require a new candidate to be chosen from the Central Party on Crion. In the meantime, the chief military will take over for our world. The other planets in the Central Powers depend on us for support in this war. They won't go against the decision of the interim President."
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| − | "Then we're frazzed," Serena put it delicately.
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| − | Ensign Ishikawa blinked as he saw the sight of the Central Powers leader collapse on the ground and be embraced by the Crimson Prince. It was like watching some sort of holovision drama and it took several seconds for him to register the full weight of what happened before his eyes. It left a sickening feeling in his stomach as Amada realized that the chief architect of this treaty was dead or dying before their eyes.
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| − | 'This can't be happening,' Amada thought to himself while he feared dreadfully a return to the violence of the Reclamation Wars.
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| − | Motoko spoke next to him "It's got to be a coincidence. He is pretty old."
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| − | Neither of them wanted to think about the possibility that this could be more than just a sudden and ill-timed act of fate. They had been taken from their homeworlds and brought to the fartest reaches of human explored space in order to fight a war that none of them really saw any need to fight. The idea that it could be far from over was something that shook both of them.
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| − | "Just....stay calm," Amada said to his companion. "There's no reason that this means the peace talks are off."
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| − | "THIS TREACHERY SHALL NOT GO UNPUNISHED!" Admiral Zebullon stood up and shook his fist into the cameras while giving the fakest looking crocodile tears that Ishikawa had ever seen in his entire life. Ishikawa Amada wondered if the man would have come up with a better line if he'd had more time to think about it. From his reaction to Isaac's heart attack, it was clear that he had been as surprised as anyone else when the President had keeled over.
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| − | "Okay, now's the time to panic...." Amada tried to make a witticism. It came out rather half hearted while his stomach churned at the thought of further combat. Part of him worried that he'd be asked to try to rush the Central crew of the ship, something pretty suicidal. They may have locked down the armories and confiscated their weapons but there were over two hundred thousand enemy crewmen on this ship. It wouldn't be that difficult for them to overwhelm the token garrison that had been assigned as security.
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| − | "I'm calm. I'm just worried about everyone else," Cadet Kursanagi looked back at him. All of the honor guard except for them seemed to be anxious to rush the Central Powers delegates and their bodyguards.
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| − | Space Marshall Spiegel managed to defuse the situation by speaking up "Everyone, stand down. Gather up the delegates and escort them back to the Meneleus. We'll get some investigators here and immediately determine if there's some kind of treachery at work. This conference is not cancelled but we'll be taking a brief recess!"
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| − | Amada knew that was something utterly beyond the Marshall's power to enforce or decree but nevertheless it was just the thing that people needed to hear. Everyone quietly began falling back into formation, Ensign Ishikawa included, as they were captured on camera by the INN. Motoko took his arm even as they were shuffled off. No matter what, things weren't going to the same between them ever again.
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| − | "We are frazzed," Amada said to himself. It was a sentiment that he would have been surprised at being echoed by the Crion forces.
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Alexia Khan walked into a rather seedy and disreputable establishment. 'Leonard's Cavern' was bar off the side of the North Piett Academy but not one attended by the elite of the students. The barely lit hyperpool hall and gambling parlor had a considerably lower class clientelle. It happened to be a location for students who wanted trouble to go to. Exactly where the man Alexia needed most should be found.
The tavern reaked of smoked stelium crystals, whiskey, and grime. The barely illuminated nature of the place helped conceal the patron's faces. A couple of barely functional holoscreens showed Crion gladiator fights and zoom bike racing on the backwall. The sun glowed brightly in the noonday sky but a half dozen people were already passed out drunk. A small group of students were next to a battered group of bystanders that looked out of place in such a disreputable locale.
"You people make me sick! You and the rest of your race are living fat off the glorious pureblooded Crion citizenry!" Elton Prescott the Third said as the genoid beat a smaller dark headed man. Hardly a fair fight given the slight fellow was being held by one of Elton's classmates. Alexia guessed the boy to be one of the many disliked minority groups that had been created by Crion's gene conscious society. She personally couldn't tell the difference between Crion's artificially created ethnic groups.
Elton blonde haired man with eyes almost like Cassius. They were about the same height and weight even though the Crimson Prince happened to be ten years Elton's senior. Prescott proudly wore the paramilitary uniform of a Crion Allegiance special serviceman. Stripes that made him appear to be higher ranking than his fellows, despite no such divisions existing in the Allegiance. Given Prescott had been kicked out of the military for his insubordination, it was no surprise he resented his loss in rank.
"Help...." a bruised blonde girl lay on the ground beside Prescott's feet even as yet another student had a knife drawn on her.
"You stay down! We're going to show your boyfriend what a real man can do," Elton snapped down at her. "You may even like it."
"Ahem," Alexia Khan coughed into her fist.
"Do you want some?" Elton spun around and pulled a energy pistol from his back pocket. He aimed it right at Alexia with a sneer.
Then Alexia narrowed her eyes. It only took a second for Elton to visibly pale.
"Mistress Khan!" Elton immediately entered a salute. Prescott's followers did the same and let their victim fall to the ground. The beaten couple then screambled to their feet before making a break for the door.
"Lousy pieces of...." the blonde haired student lifted his gun to blast the fleeing man's head in.
"Let him go. Genetrash is none of your concern right now," Alexia pushed the gun down with her forefinger.
"Yes mistress," Elton returned to saluting.
