A Chance At Peace
Posted on Sat May 14th, 2022 @ 5:17am by Giuseppe Orsini & Emperor Antonius VI & Lord Lachlan King & Crown Prince Paolo Orsini & Lieutenant Johnathan Anderson III & Princess Elana Orsini
Edited on on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 9:27pm
Mission:
Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Grand Imperial Palace, Rome
Timeline: Date 2371-05-09 at 1100
3518 words - 7 OF Standard Post Measure
IC
Elana stepped from the hovercar that deposited her in the courtyard of the Imperial palace. Around her other hovercars were disgorging their occupants, politicians and Lords. She was dressed as her father liked, simply, yet expensively. Briskly she moved up the stairs past the startled guards who were shocked at the sight of the Emperor's Youngest Daughter. She considered her options and moved towards the library which was situated above the room her father would be using for the gathering. However when she reached the top of the steps she paused, looked down and then sat on a padded bench to watch.
The next to ascend the stairs was Prince Paulo. He was short and stood ramrod straight, his face serious and unimotive. The balcony on which various high-profile spectators were gathering had several ascending rows of seating which provided a 360 degree view of the chamber beneath. In the center of the floor was a long oval of a table with a thrown at the end, red and gold. Surrounding the table was a wide-arching set of desks, 31 in number, for the Council of Lords and the Speaker. The center table was for the Emperor and his Imperial Secretariat, the executive cabinet of the Empire. As various lords, secretaries, and ministers walked in, milled about, and made their way to their seats, Paulo lowered himself down next to Elana, eying her with an almost nervous hesitancy.
"Sister." he said simply. "I'm surprised to see you here. I would have thought Hawaii would be more to your linking than meetings."
"So I would have people believe" She replied cryptically as she twitched her skirt. "I was hoping to speak with father after the meeting, about... well I am sure it will be deemed frivolous, a project I am looking into."
"Really?" Paulo asked, a curious tone slipping into his otherwise monotone voice. "Why would he think it's frivolous?"
"isn't that what he always thinks?" She replied as she leaned on the banister before them slightly to watch the people enter.
"I'm not sure that's a fair characterization." Paulo said, sounding ever-smarter and wiser than his years would normally permit. "Father just...tends to have a certain set of goals in mind with us."
She shrugged. "I understand his goals, Paulo. I just have my own goals. I am not Giana remember."
"Giana has her own goals as well." he responded. The two of them had always been the ones whose ambition seemed absent. With this new development however, one was left wondering if he had any goals himself.
"Yes she does." Elana had to reply "Though spending all of the family fortune is not what I call a goal to be fair." She took a breath. "Anyway, I will speak with father after this, if everything goes well."
"Best of luck then, sister." he said, his eyes now cast down on the gathering throng below. If he cared in particular about what she had said, he didn't show it. Yet Paulo had a habit of keeping his understanding to himself.
The next to walk through the doors were a pair associated heavily with the Blues, the minority faction within the Lords which supported peace and an economic solution to their territory issue. They were Lord Lachlan King, the Lord Mayor of Sydney, and Lady Calliope Hill, the Lady of America. They nodded to their allies with varying looks; Lord King was resolute while Lady Hill was more anxious.
Giuseppe Angelo stepped in wearing his Imperial Starfleet dress uniform, adorned with his medals and ribbons of military service to the Empire. He took a seat on periphery of the room to await the start of the Council session.
Lord Fredrikson, as the High Lord of Luna, entered the chamber next. He nodded to his fellow counsel members as he moved to his seat, located on the right side of the Emperor.
From her vantage point, Elana's gaze swept the people in the room. Her eyes didn't linger long, but for one of them, and she was quick to change her line of sight.
Lord King's eyes drifted up to the viewing area where Princes Elana sat with her brother. He offered no expression and quickly looked away, but he and his closest allies had her to thank for their preparedness for this meeting. While the reds had no idea what was going on, the blues were already organized and ready for what came next.
The great wooden doors at the end of the hall had been closed after a certain time and, once they were closed, all those who had been standing around chatting quickly made their way to their seats. At the center table, the Empire's highest ranked civil servants sat enclosed by a semi-circular table of the most influential Lords of the Empire, a daunting task for them, but not so daunting as the arrival of the Emperor. That event came with a loud banging sound, which was the striking of the huge doors with a ceremonial scepter. The doors were opened and a train of Imperial Guards, all done in in their Romanesque uniforms, swords, and energy armaments, marched in two perfectly straight lines. They took up position around the room and stood perfectly still, leaving the aging Emperor standing in the doorway. He wore a black suit with a jacket which came all the way up to a stiff red collar and red shoes like those of the pope. Atop his head was a golden laurel wreath. He looked straight on as all occupants, now standing, gazed at their leader.
"His Most Imperial Majesty, Father of the Fatherland, Rightful Overlord of Vulcan, Andoria, and Tellar Prime, Rightful Dominus of Qo'noS and Cardassia, Lord of the Terrans, Rex Stellarum, Antonius Angelus Iosephus Orsini Augustus Italicus" Sounded the voice of a herald, having taken position in the mezzanine.
A wave of applause and cheering went up as well as Terran salutes. Antonius observed them soberly, the slightest smile on his face, a look of satisfaction. As the applause persisted, he walked forward slowly to the small throne that placed him at the end of the center table and before the leaders of the Empire. He sat down in the chair, placing his hands on the ends of the armrests, which were two shining gilded lions, and waited as the group grew quiet. It was only when all the noise had died down and all could be heard was the sound of the wind outside that he parted his lips and spoke.
"My Lords, I have called this meeting of the Council in order to receive from you your unanimous support on a motion which will greatly benefit our Empire." he stated, his voice almost musical. He was clearly going to continue, but was interrupted.
"Imperial Majesty, my apologies," came the voice of a squat old man who sat in the speaker's char at the head of the outside table. "But it is customary for the Lord Speaker to begin our meetings."
There was silence then, as Antonius looked on the old man unmovingly for several dark seconds. The Speaker, for his part, began to fidget terribly under the piercing gaze, and was keenly aware of the two Imperial guards who had taken up position directly behind him at the entrance of the Emperor.
"Oh, yes, I believe you are correct.." the Emperor said, his eyes still glued to the man, hard, though his sounded reasonable. "Do go on then, Lord Speaker, don't like me get in your way."
Hesitatingly, the Speaker reached for the meshed ball of silver which served as a gavel for the Council and banged it three times. Though shaking, he delivered his lines faithfully.
"I now call to order this session of the Council of Lords of the Terran Empire with Emperor in-Council. I remind all of you, my Lords, of our sacred duty, not in the respect of persons, but in the governing of this Empire." he paused, gazing over at Lady Hill and growing even more nervous, "just as does the Emperor, we have the power to make law, with his counter-signature of course, and so we must take seriously our pow-"
"Point of order, Lord Speaker." came the voice of a thin-faced German man with unfortunate features. He was Lord Kasper Wolfe, Lord of the European Dominion and informal leader of the Reds. "It is the power of His Imperial Majesty to determine the agenda of our meetings and yours to run them. I do not see a place for Speaker's Comments on said agenda. I insist that we return to the order of the day."
The man in the Speaker's Chair stuttered. He hadn't been strong in his assertions before, but now that he was facing opposition from the other side, he wilted.
"Yes, of course. Your objection is noted..." he said, looking apologetically at Lady Hill before turning back to his microphone. "Our main agenda item is brought by His Imperial Majesty."
Elana's face barely moved as the political maneuverings happened below. Her eyes focused on the reactions of those who were in the chamber. Some gave themselves away.
"Thank you, Lord Speaker. You are a credit to your office...a man of detail who understands the nature of things..." the Emperor said with some mystery in his voice, his beady eyes scanning the Lords arrayed before him, "We should all endeavor to remember the nature of things...reminders can be so very unpleasant."
He paused then and smiled slightly, looking a kindly old man, though no one in the room was fooled.
"The Klingon-Cardassian Alliance, our greatest enemy and the bane of the Empire, once took advantage of the weakness of Commander-in-Chief Spock, whom we foolishly allowed to lead us, a Vulcan dog and a rightful slave. He sundered our Empire and left us with a single system. When his absurd Federation, plagued with the cancer of mercy and the softness which democracy inevitably brings, collapsed under the weight of its own false-pride, the Alliance swept our former possessions and has held them for 76 years. Some of you hear that sweet music, that call to reclaim what is irrevocably our right to posses, while some of you care more for the good of our people here. These are both admirable views..."
The Emperor paused; it wasn't clear if he really meant what he had just said.
"But whatever this Council decides, we must have allies or the Alliance will crush us, once they deal with their rebels. So, my Lords, I propose a conference with the Romulan Federation where Our government will hash out an alliance which will strengthen our standing in the galaxy. It shall be on Mars, and will allow the Romulans some...comfortable breathing space."
The Emperor fell silent, and it was clear he had concluded his proposal, or all that he had intended to say about it. The Speaker gestured toward the Lords around the outer-table.
"The proposal of His Imperial Majesty is now up for discussion and questioning." he said, and then the floor was open.
Lord Fredrikson had listened thoughtfully to what his Emperor had said. Now that the floor was open, he spoke up. "Your Majesty, Mister Speaker, Lords and Ladies. I have a question regarding this proposed alliance. Your Grace," he dipped his head respectfully to the Emperor. "You spoke of allowing the Romulans some comfortable breathing space. May I ask what exactly you mean by that?"
"Majesty, if I may?" asked a man nearby him at the center table: Thomas O'Hara, the Imperial Secretary for Foreign Affairs. The Emperor nodded to him soberly, and the man rose. "Lord Fredrikson, I can answer that question. My department has conducted preliminary negotiations with the Romulans and there is a...general uneasiness with sending their First Consul to Terra. They still remember our war, hundreds of years past, and there isn't enough good will for them to make themselves vulnerable. Mars, on the other hand, can sport a sizeable Romulan bodyguard force for their diplomats since its outside our home world. This suggestion is viewed favorably by the Romulans."
Lady Isadora Montreve, Governor of the Entire Africian Dominion was a swing vote and everyone knew it. She went the way the winds blew. She studied the Imperial Secretary for foreign affairs while he spoke. "Their.. First Consul. And who will we be sending to meet them?" She asked curiously.
"We will be sending me, My Lady." the Emperor answered himself from the throne. "And a throng of secretaries and diplomats, of course. Who else might we send besides? I intend to see this alliance forged strongly, and for our mutual benefit."
"Emphasis on the benefit." the Chancellor stated with wry smile, and several of the government secretaries chuckled along with the small joke. The Empire hadn't been known historically for fair and equal treaties.
"I, with respect Chancellor, like to know what benefits we will see?" Isadora asked "I am all for allying against the Alliance, to protect our people, but I am sure there are other benefits."
"Well, ma'am, it depends on your meaning. allying with the Romulans can bring both economic and military benefits. Any treaty, of course, would be respectfully brought before this body again. Though, technically, the Emperor doesn't require the participation of the Council of Lords in any part of this. His Imperial Majesty thought it best if the Empire acted as one. We, of course, can't discuss every line-item on the agenda here, for our time is short. Thomas, what might you say is our...bottom line?"
"Security, certainly." the Foreign Secretary said, looking to the Lady. "A military alliance will mean a mutual defense pact among other things."
At that point, Lord Lachlan King rose from his seat, a look of resolute defiance on his face. The Speaker turned and immediately recognized him. He looked at the assembled lords, turned to face the Emperor, and then looked back to the Lords again.
"My Lords. We no longer live in a petty tyranny as we once did. The days of the past, the days where we lived for conquest and made hundreds of worlds kneel before us like animals...those days are well and truly done. And any who wish to win them back are...living in a fairytale land."
Their was a grumbling from around the room as Reds took quiet issue with the statement. The Emperor, however, had a face which was inscrutable and still as stone.
"The Emperor has brought this proposal to us only a day after calling the meeting, without telling us what the subject might be or even issuing a clear set of documents for us to discuss. He has plotted and planned with his government, intentionally cutting us out of the process, and now he intends to use us as a rubber stamp for this vague initiative."
Around the room, the Blues nodded and offered several "here here"s.
"I thought you wanted peace, Lachlan," came the voice of Lord Wolff, thick with accent and full of spite. "This is a peace conference, so what are you complaining about?"
"This is a conference to form an alliance with the Romulans. No one said anything at all about peace." King issued back. "Many of us suspect that this conference is meant to hammer out a deal for war, and to carve up the territory of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance."
"So what if it is? Are you against Terran victory now, Lord King?" Wolf asked, and the Reds all banged their fists. "Perhaps you should try your luck at fighting for the other side? Are you satisfied with our extremely tenuous position?"
These were dangerous words. Loyalty was demanded in the Empire, and anyone who didn't demonstrate it was in danger of arrest and a swift end. Lord King bristled.
"It's you who are fighting for the other side, Kasper! We hold only our home system and a fleet of aging vessels. A full scale war would bring us to ruin; it would destroy everything we have managed to hold on to here, and we would be the slaves of the galaxy, rather than its rulers."
A huge cry went out from around the hall as lords reacted and then debated fiercely with the people closest to them. Some of them were conversations built on agreement, some of them were angry rows.
Isadora sat back and watched the fight.
It took quite alot of gavel banging from the Speaker to calm the room down and to gain control of the discourse again. Before the old man could speak however, King shouted over the crowd.
"WE STAND AGAINST IT!" he bellowed, and suddenly, several chairs moved back at once and, in a split second, all the Blues were on their feet, standing resolute. The room went silent, and all eyes were on them. "Stand with us, friends. Some of you, I know, are seeing this clearly."
Lord Fredricson stood slowly, facing Lord King. "Before this goes any further, King, answer me a question. A few moments ago, you claimed that we are holding our home system with but an aging fleet of ships. When was the last time you actually went into orbit? Our shipyards are churning out modern, deadly, warships. While yes, we still need more time and material to fully replace the older fleet, those outdated vessels are no longer on the front lines. Our new ships are, with more filling the gaps in between everyday." He paused to let this sink in. "So, perhaps, before you try to split this government into pieces, you should have all of the facts."
Lord King faltered a bit in his eyes, but quickly rallied a response.
"That is beside the point! The point is that we are being strong-armed into this, and have no formal plans before us for this conference to ensure it is not, secretly, a war council." he said. "Do you believe in your power at all, or are you all perfectly happy to cow-tow to the Emperor and to say yes to whatever he brings before us?"
Fredricson looked about the chamber, a confused look on his face. When he looked back at King, he replied. "Begging your forgiveness, Sir. I must have just returned from a parallel universe, where our home and the very Empire itself was in danger of being annihilated by our enemies." He paused briefly as several of his allies snickered quietly. "This group has been a war council since before most of us were even born. If you think we are at peace, or don't need new allies, then you are grossly misinformed. And if that is the case, perhaps it is time you were temov3d from these hallowed halls, permanently."
“Maybe you have been invited to some Council meetings the rest of us have not, my Lord.” King responded to the mutual nods of those still standing up in defiance of the motion. “This is the first council meeting which his imperial majesty has called in months. He keeps his own counsel until he is doing something controversial. Then he comes to us and all but demands we co-sign his decision. And you are acting like nothing more than a lapdog!”
The gavel was banged over and over to quiet the rabble’s response.
“Order! Order! The Speaker said over the din.
“I have a suggestion.” Came the voice of Lord Sibiya, Lord of South Africa. Heather handsome young man rose from his seat. A neutral vote in this partisan body, he had few Allie’s in this room. “What if a delegation of members of the Council of Lords were present to monitor the conference. They could have a representative in every meeting and make sure this conference neither turns to surrender or full-scale war.”
Isadora narrowed her gaze at Sibiya and then turned to Lachlan "Would that work for you Lord King?" She asked curiously.
Lachlan’s eyes drifted from Isadora and Lord Sibiya to those who stood with him. They gave him gazes that signifies their cautious acquiescence. Seeing that the other lords were so taken in my the presence of the Emperor and his plan, he knew they would not be able to stop the conference. This would at least give him and his allies a seat at the table.
“Assuming there is no conspiracy or plan to box us out…we could accept this.” Lachlan King said, his brow knit in a silent frustration. “All the Blues included in general gatherings and large-scale meetings, and selectees included in smaller meetings. And we get to choose who those selectees are.”
Several eyes of those still sitting drifted to the Emperor’s chair. He nodded silently, and all understood that there was agreement. Over the next few moments the vote was called and the Council approved the proposal on the table. It seemed the Emperor got what they wanted, and the Blues got their pound of flesh.
“This meeting is adjourned.“ said the speaker, banging his gavel.
