Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 6

  “As fair and balanced as always, Mathilda!” Ambassador Ponce grinned at his rival even as he spoke to the news anchor, before looking straight at the camera his smile falling from his face. “Despite the fact that many of my fellow MP’s are even now suffering somewhere deep within Capria’s parliamentary bunker, I was willing to risk my life to come here to Central to speak before a blue ribbon fact finding commission regarding the Tyrant. But that’s an issue for another time, as is the fact that even now MP’s are protesting the current Royalist regime back with an NPO—or 'nothing by mouth'—hunger strike!”

  “Ah, yes, the dreaded hunger strike. I understand you yourself almost lost five pounds,” the Marquise said, making a throwing gesture and a holo image projected from his wrist band showing a cut scene of three rows of Provincial Parliamentary Members on cots laughing and joking as they were hooked up to intravenous feeding devices. One of them was even munching on a twinkie as technicians hooked him up, until he appeared to notice the floating holo-camera and, eyes widening, immediately covered his mouth and slumped back onto his bed assuming the expression of a sick dog as he clutched his stomach.

  “Total parenteral nutrition, I hear it’s all the rage amongst the younger generation and the new craze on certain health-conscious worlds. Supposedly it increases vigor, boosts intelligence and ensures—”

  “That’s quite enough, Marquise!” shrieked Mathilda like a harpy straight from the abyss. “How dare you project uncleared and, most importantly, unvetted images of what could be anything from outright forgeries to poorly edited hit pieces to try and make a mockery of the greatest news network in the galaxy?!”

  “Ever since the Bombardment, some in the media—and those even now deep within the Parliamentary Bunker—have persecuted the Royal Family of Capria, attempting to perpetrate a fraud on the Caprian people. This holo-evidence clearly shows that this ‘hunger strike’ is simply yet another hatchet job masquerading as principled action, taken solely to besmirch the reputation of the Palace and reputation of the Royal—” his microphone cut out.

  “You go too far, My Lord! The integrity of Capria’s elected leaders are beyond question,” Namus Ponce yelled, spittle flying as he frothed at the mouth. “Besides, this is a news program on a potential invasion of the entire Sector, not a platform for you to stir up sectarian strife! Restrain yourself from attempting to score provincial political points at the expense of the voters and, more importantly, at the risk of civilian lives sector-wide!”

  Briefly the screen switched to an image of the Marquise speaking animatedly and shaking his fist, but without sound. It then cut back to just the one image showing only Mathilda and Ambassador Ponce.

  “Some people are just so partisan and divisive. Thankfully my producer has informed me that the Marquise’s actions have caught the attention of the anti-hate speech regulatory programs and temporarily silenced him while the moderators run a legal check,” Mathilda said, shaking her head sadly. “As such, I officially apologize to my audience for the Marquise’s bigoted actions. He’s clearly the product of his provincial upbringing and I want to make clear he in no way represents the Cosmic News Network, Spineward Sectors, Sector 25 branch in any way, shape, or form,” she tut-tutted.

  “Fair and balanced as always Mathilda,” gloated Ponce, “as for myself, I also apologize for my Royalist colleague’s bitter tirade. The election polls back home aren’t looking good for his faction and, well, it’s not like this is an excuse for his actions but rather an unfortunate explanation for such terrible behavior,” the elected politician sighed heavily for the camera.

  “We’ll simply have to struggle on without him until the good Marquise is able to recover and explain himself. In the meantime, what do you think about the hard line the Imperial Fleet Commander is taking?” asked Mathilda. “Apparently the Confederation itself has requested the Senator come to restore order to our benighted region of space.”

  “I, for one, say it can’t happen fast enough! The return of the Confederated Empire has been the dream of my last several years and the desperately held hope of billions across the Spineward Sectors,” Namus Ponse said, a gleam in his eye as he spoke passionately on the subject. “Speaking solely for the billions of citizens of my home world, I have to say it really can’t happen too soon. These past years we’ve been beset by droids, pirates, reavers, royals and space-faring psychopaths. Even invaders from outside the Sector have been bold enough to invade us, after realizing just how outrageous the criminals of this Sector had begun to act. Why, entire fleets of pirates have even outright joined the Sector Guard Force, causing citizen around the sector to howl with fear whenever the SGF makes orbit around their planet. These actions must stop! A return to peace and order, even if at Imperial hands, will be a good day that cannot come too soon in my book,” he finished, with a distasteful moue appearing on his face as he mentioned the Empire.

  “It may be too soon to declare the return of the Imperial Navy and the Glorious Fleet of Liberation has completely succeeded,” she demurred. “However they were sent directly by the Confederation and alongside the Empire is an unequivocal positive force for truth, justice and the Spineward Sectors way, the Glorious Fleet of Liberation. On a strictly personal note, this news anchor for one can’t wait to be liberated and informed contact with the Confederation is restored and so I can finally catch up with the last five seasons of Desperate Househerms!” she said, her eyes gleaming with relish.

  “A great day, Ms. May,” the Ambassador agreed with ponderous dignity, “the level of quality entertainment has decidedly dropped these past few years as we have been thrust back on the plebian creations of, let’s call them…lesser talents.”

  The two talking heads shared a look of mutual understanding, combined with a hint of long suffering before the news anchor shifted back to the camera and it once again zoomed in on her face.

  “In other news, for those of the audience eager for more information you can go to our website for all the news you need to know. Only on the CNN network can you be assured you’ll get the straight download, including a direct personal message from Imperial Senator Cornwallis welcoming our Sector back into the welcoming arms of humanity and the galactic community at large; as well as all the firsthand accounts of our intrepid reporters in the field, in all of its raw, uncut, unedited 360 degree holo-glory!” Mathilda May said happily.

  She tapped the holo-interface on the table in front of her and different background colors immediately appeared behind her.

  “And now, switching from the Galactic Desk to the Domestic Desk, I would like to take a moment to remind you that independent media reports are the height of unreliability. If it’s not on our network, it has not been verified and thus is unworthy of reporting. So don’t be taken in by all those fake news outlets that are just looking to make a quick buck using poorly edited click bait; instead rely on real, bonded and licensed media, a trusted organization with a track record of giving you the facts,” Mathilda warned flashing a patented smile, “however, before we get into all that I have been informed we must welcome back the Marquise, who I am assured by studio producers has agree to calm down and control himself for the duration of our next segment.”

  “As fair and balanced as ever, Mathilda,” gloated Ambassador Ponce.

  “Yes, as fair as we’ve come to expect from CNN,” sneered the Marquise. “It seems I was unfairly flagged by ‘anonymous’ sources as a hate speaker by an electronic program, but as soon as my case was reviewed by a live judge it was dismissed out of hand. I wonder. Who is it that would be so familiar with the program that they could immediately trip the program…given the eight second time delay in broadcasting this show!”

  The female news anchor glared at the Caprian Lord before realizing she was back on camera and immediately smiled again.

  “We’ll look into that with our best people. Now for the first question I have for this panel. Is this new government the…and let’s be real here, ‘infantile’ Confede
ration in the Spine really willing to fight for galactic recognition as they claim? Or are they instead ready to accept reality and a swift and certain return to the welcoming arms of the galactic community as other have proposed. Just so long as they can get a good deal for their constituents?” she asked.

  “To my mind it’s the classic quandary, Ms. May. Will idealism triumph over experience?” Ponce said seriously.

  “A good point, Ambassador,” Mathilda mused, her brow furrowing in a cute way as if she hadn’t yet considered that angle.

  “The both of you realize we’re not being asked to accept a return to the open arms of the Confederation?” the Marquise asked with disbelief. “We’re being annexed by the Empire unless the politicians at Central manage to pull their heads out and somehow work a deal with the Senator.”

  “Veteran Imperial Admiral and ‘Senator’ Cornwallis is here at the behest of the Old Confederation,” Mathilda glared, her mouth making a thin line as she refuted the Marquise. “They are here to reestablish contact and deliver us from the constant attacks and invasions that have plagued us these last few years,” Mathilda said scornfully

  “That makes a fine story but word from my sources is that we’ve been given to the Empire in exchange for essentially saving us from ourselves,” the Marquise ground out. “Being handed over like a fat sheep to be fleeced by the same Imperials that threw our Sector into chaos and destroyed our infrastructure when they withdrew Rim Fleet. By the beloved space saints, woman, that’s like handing over the keys of our future to the very people who broke down the front door and let in all the riffraff.”

  “You go too far my lord!” cried Ponce.

  “It’s one thing to make those kinds of sexist remarks about me, my Lord! But it’s another thing entirely to attempt to use your religious beliefs as some kind of cover to besmirch the honor of the Empire and, by extension, that of the Confederation at large!” Mathilda May shrieked before drawing herself up with dignity.

  “I don’t see how anything I’ve said was sexist, bigoted or even very religious. All I hear is a blatant attempt to shut down debate,” de Farqua said lifting an eye brow. “Also I’ve noted that despite repeatedly granting my colleague the dignity of our co-joint office, you have not once referred to me by my official title of Ambassador, Ms. May.”

  “You’re evasions are laughable, Lord Marquise. But even giving you the very large benefit of the doubt,” said Ambassador Ponce in a tone of voice that said such a benefit was undeserved, “you’re still completely wrong on the merits. In what way are we shutting down debate or standing on your dignity as a person? For we are natural born citizens of the Confederation, the greatest star nation that was ever conceived!” Ponce said passionately.

  “Who disputed that? And what does any of that have to do with what I said?” de Farqua said, looking at him strangely. “I simply said by all means let’s consider rejoining the Confederation but under what logic do the heartland Sectors believe they can hand us over to the Imperials like fruit from a vendors market stand?”

  “The wisdom of the Confederated Empire is without peer,” the Caprian Parliamentary Member cried passionately.

  “Again, we’re not ‘rejoining’ the Confederated Empire—it dissolved years ago. Instead we’re to be forced to join what is simply the ‘Empire of Man’,” the Marquise retorted.

  “It’s impossible to reason with those with such simple minds,” Ponce said, rolling his eyes, “not only is the Empire too powerful to resist, but why would we even want to? Except maybe for a few unhappy politicians or angry Royalists dreaming of coup d'etat? I for one will gladly line up to welcome our liberators with open arms.”

  “A few unhappy politicians! Royalists? Have you even read the Confederation Charter? I assure you if you look at it you’ll see such minor things as 'the right to local system sovereignty' and 'the ability for every provincial star system to direct its own destiny',” snapped the Marquise. “But perhaps even more telling than your glaring lack of education on the most basic tenets of our former system of government is your absolute belief in our military inferiority.”

  “You can’t be serious? What can a fleet consisting of pirates, a few battle-weary heroes from the Sector Guard, and the space militias of our Core Worlds going to do against the full might and fury of the Imperial Navy?” demanded Namus Ponce.

  “Maybe a lot more than you think,” shot back de Farqua.

  “Just like a loyal lapdog of the Palace. Put a Royal in charge of something and, even if he’s a tyrant, you’ll follow him to the grave while singing the national anthem,” sneered the Parliamentary Ambassador.

  “I’m a loyal servant of King James and the house of Vekna! The Tyrant of Cold Space can go hang himself for all I care,” the Marquise said, drawing back defensively.

  “A likely story,” Namus sniffed superiorly.

  “And there you have it, people,” Mathilda May cut back in with a thousand megawatt smile. “Will the veterans of the Empire succeed in saving us from the years of hardship and despair we’ve been mired in? Or will our defiant Governor Isaak stand on principle and send our battered star fleet, spearheaded by the Tyrant himself, to fight for our liberty? Are we to depend on a man like no other, known for his ruthlessness to his own people as well as unconventional tactics, to win the day on our behalf. Only time will tell if the Tyrant of Cold Space will be the savior that can give us the perfect government we’ve all be waiting for. Or, if instead, would everyone be better off if the unstable so-called Admiral stood down and finally received the very much belated psychological counseling mandated for him by medical professionals and members of his own family—the very same treatment which he’s been ducking and avoiding for years?!”

  “Until next time, this is Mathilda May, bringing you all the news you need to know, signing off,” she said as CNN’s famous musical anthem started to play in the background.

  Chapter 7: The Decision is Made

  Standing in front of a podium and surrounded by cameras run by everyone from the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet’s own Public Relations Department to Tracto’s budding independent news organization, Border Alliance reporters and even a pair of Sundered and Droid holo-caputure droids, I was finally ready to make the big jump.

  Why, then, did I feel like I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life?

  “We’re ready anytime you are, Sir,” said an MSP Lieutenant, pointing a microphone pointed my way.

  I snapped out of my own internal head space and bestowed a tight smile upon the various camera crews.

  “Today, after finally receiving confirmation from the Cosmic News Network as well as independent news organizations across the spine, verifying the presence of an invasion fleet parked on the border of this Sector, I have come to a most reluctant decision,” I said, staring into the fleet PR crews camera stoically while, behind me, images of the Cornwallis Fleet appeared on the display.

  “What have you decided, Admiral?” asked a Border Alliance reporter with bated breath.

  “Simply put, in the face of this treachery I have decided to throw my support behind the Spineward Confederation,” I said, causing an immediate uproar among the gathered journalists as they began shouting out questions, confirmation, support and outright disbelief.

  I raised my hands in the air, quelling the mayhem. “I want to make it absolutely clear,” I said, grabbing hold of the podium with both hands and glaring at the cameras through lowered brows, “it was one thing to loyally hand back over everything we have struggled so hard to preserve and maintain in the face of multiple invasions, piracy and outright machine attacks, in order to reunite the Spine with the Old Confederation. That’s what we fought and died for: a better life for everyone,” I declared angrily. But sadly the heartland government hasn’t recognized our efforts—heck they haven’t even gone so far as to simply abandon us,” I thundered, my knuckles turning white as I squeezed the podium. “No! Now after leaving us to rot for five years they’ve suddenly tu
rned around and up and sold us to the Empire—the very blighters who attacked us last year. What are we now, Provinces? These are not Provinces—we are the Spineward Sectors! And we will not give into tyranny without a fight!”

  I swept every person and camera in the room with my furious gaze.

  “Read my lips: as long as there are people in the Spine to support us in our actions, there will always be a Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet to protect and defend them! This Fleet will fight for the people against any enemies. Foreign. Or. DOMESTIC!”

  Somewhat predictably, the room erupted into pandemonium.

  Interlude: The Stalwart Decision

  “Elder Storm, it is so good to see you again,” boomed a Stalwart male with scars stretching up in a V formation from the left his chest all the way up his neck until it covered half his face in twisted scar tissue as he stepped into the room.

  “Po’ta! My young nephew, it is good to see you again,” the Stalwart Elder that had been sitting almost despondently in his room seemed to visibly inflate as he turned and stood up arms outstretched toward his kinsman.

  A bone-crushing embrace followed by mutual backslaps that would have dislocated the joints of lesser creatures soon resulted.

  “I didn’t expect to see you alive again, Po’ta,” said Elder Storm looking at the other male with almost disbelief.

  “Longtime no see, Grand Uncle,” Po’ta said eyes twinkling.

  “You truly have no idea just how pleased I am. We all thought you lost,” said the aging male.

  “If the Imperials couldn’t kill this nephew of yours then Rim Trash like the Bamona Pirates don’t stand a chance,” Po’ta said proudly and then glanced at the door, “but don’t spread your lack of faith in your nephew around any louder or you’ll scare off my new mate. If she learns that my own family had as little faith in this male’s own family—”