Echoes of Harmony

New Athens

Hyperia

4 December 3296

Legate Marius Habricht made his way through the halls leading to the council chamber with thinly veiled frustration. He could count on one hand the number of times he was awake in the middle of the night for an emergency meeting. All three of those had been related to a breakdown of negotiations between the Hyperion Empire and the Druthagar. All three had been called by himself.

This one had not.

The idea of an emergency meeting wasn’t enough to worry him. After all, he went through the fires of war enough to earn his moniker of Hades. A measly emergency meeting was nothing compared to some of the horrors he lived through.

The fact he did not have the slightest idea what it was about was what worried him.

That worry was not enough to leave him surprised when he walked through the doors and saw Councilor Feilhaber leaning against the holoprojector at the center of the room. The politician smiled as Habricht entered, though it held no warmth. The legate simply scowled at the man in reply. He moved around the projector and found his seat, which sat slightly higher than the others, at the center of the opposite side.

He folded his arms across his chest as he lowered himself into the fabric, looking at the rest of the spaces. Nearly half still sat empty. More of the council steadily filtered in to fill them as Habricht studied their arrivals. Some looked at him with something akin to pity, while others held a mixture of contempt in their eyes. Several of the generals and councilors rubbed their eyes—some more conspicuously than others—while the legates ensured they showed no signs of tiredness. They knew it would be an indication of weakness to do so.

After several minutes, the entirety of the room was as filled as it was just over a month previously. The only person missing was the Emperor himself. Finally, the doors to the Emperor’s balcony banged open, and his royal guard, their purple, metallic cloaks billowing around them, stepped out. Behind them came the Emperor in his usual garb. Everyone stood to attention at once, immediately dispelling any allusion to their drowsiness.

Several seconds passed as the Emperor looked over the assembled council, searching for any sign of weakness. Habricht told himself it was just his imagination that their leader’s eyes rested on him a fraction of a second longer than the others. He would be lying, however, if he said it didn’t raise his heart rate for a moment. No one wanted to be caught in the Emperor’s gaze, no matter how loyal they were to the empire.

Finally, he sat, signaling to the assembly they could begin. Feilhaber began pacing around the holoprojector at once, mimicking Habricht. His hands were firmly clasped behind his back.

“I am pleased you were all able to make it on such short notice.” Feilhaber sneered at Habricht as he rounded that side of the projector. Habricht did his best to feign disinterest, though his curiosity was indeed piqued. “Late last evening, I received a communication from Colonel Mao Huang of the HMV Wagener, a battleship in the Seventh Fleet. He advised me he was sent ahead of the rest of the Seventh, taking with him to Stariek three cruisers: the Conta, Kessel, and Hausen. Leading this little… expedition was the council’s favorite general, Augusta Zorn.”

Habricht felt a tickle of worry in the back of his mind. He was surprised Feilhaber had already received a report on the events of the advance squadron. After all, he had received them himself only the previous morning. However, he wasn’t about to let Feilhaber know he was concerned.

“Now, some of you may be asking what the purpose of this meeting is. At the November second meeting, we had voted to invade Stariek and take it for ourselves. Why would it matter if this squadron went in ahead of time?” Feilhaber turned to the holoprojector, which whirred to life. Above it was a picture of a cruiser being rammed by a large carrier. As they impacted, the cruiser erupted in a burst that tore a hole in the side of the carrier. When the fireball faded a few moments later, nothing remained of the cruiser save for millions of pieces of metal. “The Conta was needlessly destroyed during this encounter, of which only it was sent forward. One ship versus nearly three dozen enemy vessels, despite the fact there were two cruisers and a battleship ready to support. All this after hiding the advance squadron under several hundred pages of military planning.

“All that being said, the purpose of this meeting is to dishonorably discharge both General Augusta Zorn and Legate Marius Habricht from the military, imprisoning them both for a sentence to be determined.”

All eyes turned to Habricht with the completion of the accusation. Zorn wasn’t here to defend himself, so it would fall to Habricht to do so. Inside, his mind was a whirlwind as he thought of counters to Feilhaber’s allegation. There were many of them, it was just a matter of picking the right ones. Outside, he projected an aura of confidence.

Slowly, he stood, looking around the room to meet everyone’s eyes—everyone save for the Emperor.

“The loss of the Conta is regrettable. The thousands on board deserved a better death than they received. But in any conflict, there is always the risk of death, the risk of failure.”

“Did you not complain about my supposed reckless endangerment of our soldiers?” Feilhaber interrupted. “At our last meeting and each previous one for the last decade? How can you say now it is simply regrettable?”

“As macabre as it sounds, I think everyone in this room—at least, everyone with military experience—can attest to the fact there is a big difference between losing one ship and losing one hundred ninety four.” He met Feilhaber’s stare, returning it with the same intensity he received. After several seconds, the councilor dropped his gaze to the floor for just a moment before looking back up. “Now, I admit, I did send the squadron there. After all, it was part of the plan that I sent all of you, that you all agreed to. I did not intend to deceive anyone, and, if anything, I shall ensure I make these details clearer in the future.

“As for why the other three ships did not intervene and attempt to save the Conta, there is a simple answer. We discussed at our last meeting the defensive capabilities of Stariek, particularly their defense satellites. Before he left, I discussed with General Augusta Zorn the foolishness in trying to attack them head on. I was able to receive override codes to these satellites, which I ensured were transferred to General Zorn. However, there was not time to guarantee the success in shutting down their systems. As such, the Conta was sent in to keep the Stariek fleet occupied while the codes were tested. If all four vessels had gone in without ensuring the downfall of their satellites, all of the squadron would have been lost. Better to lose one vessel than four.” Habricht turned to Feilhaber. He resisted the urge to smirk at the councilor. “After all, I would not want to recklessly endanger our soldiers.”

Habricht returned to his seat in silence. He wasn’t worried about the effect of his words. Ultimately, this entire trial—if one would call it such—was a sham. A few years past, Feilhaber convinced enough of the council to implement this proceeding as a way of removing those leaders they disliked. But, in the end, it was up to the Emperor to decide who stayed in power and who was removed.

Feilhaber cleared his throat, and Habricht expected a roll call. However, instead, a video appeared in the holoprojector. It was a compilation of different videos and pictures, all depicting an annihilated city. The twisted metal of skyscrapers reached up into the sky like skeletal fingers. Bodies littered the ground, their exposed skin blistered and bloody. Ash hung in the air, swirled around by errant winds. In the distance, vague outlines of mushroom clouds silhouetted the sky.

“This is what remains of the city of Epinau.” Feilhaber’s face displayed the utmost grief, which Habricht could tell was faked. The man didn’t have a sensitive bone in his body. “Tens of millions are dead because General Augusta Zorn gave Colonel Emma Kiesling orders to bombard the city with nuclear missiles if her charge failed. She was the captain of the Conta.”

Habricht felt a thin smile twitch the corners of his lips upwards. He had heard stories of Zorn’s tendency to resort to extreme measures, but he had always overlooked them. There was no denying the success of his missions. Plus, it was always in the name of expanding their society. Perhaps he should have received permission for the act, but Habricht did not see the point in focusing on the one misstep when the man orchestrated the takeover of an entire planet while losing only the single vessel. Then again, saying so wasn’t the best for optics. And Habricht had been playing Feilhaber’s game for much longer than the councilor.

He stood up, taking one more glance at the video as it repeated.

“I would like it to be known, I had no knowledge of the general’s intentions.” He looked over the council, letting their stares bore into him. So what if I show a slight bit of weakness here? I’m only human. “If I knew what he intended to do, I would have talked him out of it. I may be the supreme commander of our military—aside from our Emperor, of course—but that does not mean I am a bloodthirsty monster.”

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Habricht sat back down, hiding his smile. There were some steps he himself was not willing to take. Such barbaric, senseless slaughter was beneath him. It was beneath most of the population, despite their desire for galactic supremacy. That did not mean, though, it was beneath others who were willing to get their hands dirtier than he was. Fear was a powerful motivator. Desperation was a more powerful one, though this one could have the opposite effect.

Better that he keep his hands clean of such acts, allowing others to take any potential downfall for themselves.

“At this point,” Feilhaber whispered, his voice only audible due to the speakers throughout the room, “I would like to call a vote on the matter of the dishonorable discharge of Legate Marius Habricht.”

Several silent minutes passed as the votes slowly trickled in. However, it was clear from the start what the result would be: No. Habricht feigned breathing a sigh of relief. He knew he ultimately had nothing to worry about in the grand scheme of the trial.

“Now, the matter of the dishonorable discharge of General Augusta Zorn.”

This vote was much closer, teetering back and forth between more yes and more no votes. Habricht considered his own vote nearly longer than anyone else. Part of him wanted to wait to see how everyone else voted before casting his, just to ensure it did not matter. However, one thing he wasn’t was a coward. With the thought, he cast his vote against the discharge of Zorn. Finally, the voting concluded, with a margin of only two votes. To Habricht’s surprise, the Council narrowly voted in favor of Zorn, denying the discharge.

Feilhaber immediately began to storm out of the room, the holoprojector’s video finally blinking out. However, Habricht stepped forward and caught his arm.

“I promise, Zorn will pay for what he did,” Habricht whispered. He released the councilor, who looked at him in stunned confusion before scurrying off. Habricht smiled. If that doesn’t keep him wondering, nothing will.

Without a word, the man left, joining the throng of people making their way out. Habricht was glad of one thing that Zorn was at least able to keep secret: no one knew of the boy’s, Skylar Reid, role in his decision to go to Stariek. Perhaps their tests would reveal what they were missing.

He chanced a glance up towards the Emperor’s balcony, where their leader now stood. His gaze pierced into Habricht’s eyes, sending a chill down his spine. He lifted a gloved hand and gestured for the legate to follow.

Habricht complied.

#

HMV Rommel

Stariek Orbit

5 December 3296

General Augusta Zorn stood on the observation deck of the massive dreadnought, the flagship of the Seventh Fleet, the Rommel. While it was not nearly as impressive as the Event Horizon, it provided a sense of grandeur that was sorely lacking during his stay aboard the Wagener. Rows of plush seats, each with built in reclining functionality, faced the large nanoglass window. Lights, twinkling like the billions of stars visible beyond the planet, lit up a path on the floor from the door at the back of the room above the chairs.

What he found most remarkable, however, were the two hundred ships, ranging from cruisers and frigates to battleships and dreadnoughts, in orbit around Stariek. It was not often one was able to experience the full force of a Hyperion fleet in one place.

They maintained orbit at the moment as thousands of transports ferried the countless pieces of what would be a space station into position. Tethers were tied between half a dozen of the small ships and the large, modular cubes that made up the latest Hyperion innovation. Slowly, each was slotted into place and welded together. So far, only a framework of the structure was in place, though that quickly changed with each passing minute. By current estimates, the station would be ready within the week, and Zorn expected himself to be on his way back to Hyperia to receive his next assignment by then.

“It’s a fascinating construction, is it not?” a masculine voice said from behind Zorn.

He did his best to hide his surprise as he turned to face the source of the sudden noise. Strolling down the steps was a man about the same age as Zorn. His black hair was streaked with gray, and a thin beard covered his cheeks and chin. Cascading down his body was a set of metallic robes that flowed as if made of silk.

“Legate Rausch.” Zorn saluted with his right hand to his left shoulder. “I was not aware you were on the Rommel. How can I serve the Empire?”

“No need for the formality.” Rausch dismissively waved a hand. A thin smile touched his lips as he stood beside Zorn and looked out the window. He casually folded his hands behind his back, ruffling the metal of his robes with the movement. “General, this will be the finest space station ever constructed by human hands. I intend on staying aboard the Rommel until it is successfully completed. After all, it is the culmination of my life’s work.”

“From what I hear, it is going to be the most advanced training facility in the empire.” Zorn straightened his back slightly, though he watched the transports and tugs just as intently as Rausch. “Though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in more of the details.”

“Eh, rumors spread like a plague.” Rausch waved his hand dismissively. “‘Most advanced?’ We haven’t created a training facility like this in nearly three centuries, of course it is going to be the most advanced. Unfortunately, most of the details are classified beyond your clearance level at the moment, so I’m afraid I’m unable to sate your curiosity.”

“Would you be able to at least tell me who is going to be training within the facility?” Zorn let a smile touch the corner of his lips despite the fact Rausch could not see it.

“For now, people from Stariek.” Rausch let out a chuckle and shook his head. “Children, teenagers, some adults. Anyone who is deemed fit for assimilation into our empire. The rest will go to the mines and factories.”

“While we’re on the topic, what made you change your mind, sir?”

“Hm?” Rausch tilted his head slightly in Zorn’s direction but kept his gaze on the slowly expanding skeleton of cubes. “What do you mean?”

“You canceled this training program a little under a decade ago, shortly after the last conflict with the Druthagar. Why start it up again now?”

“Between you and me, I experienced certain pressures that asserted it was in the best interest of the empire to start it up again.” He turned his head to look Zorn fully in the eye. “A pressure that I have come to extend to you.”

Zorn’s breath caught in his throat for a moment before he recovered his calm. Showing weakness was not something he wanted to do, especially in front of the legate.

“How do you mean, Legate?”

“I have been informed that you are to be assigned the position of commissar of the training facility upon its completion. It should be about a week or so for the finishing touches to go into place. Of course, there will be some kinks to work out, but that is to be expected.”

Zorn considered the man’s words. By much of Hyperia’s standards, Stariek was nothing more than a backwater planet. If Habricht’s plans were followed, a large portion of the world would be turned into mines to get the tritinium out of the crust and refineries to make it usable. Being put into a position here would put his goal of becoming a legate on hiatus.

“For how long would I be in the post, Legate?” Zorn did his best to conceal the irritation in his voice, but, judging by Rausch’s scowl, he had failed.

“Indefinitely, General.”

“Permanently nothing more than a lowly principal to a bunch of children who don’t deserve to be in our great empire?” Zorn hissed the words and stomped away from the window, stopping just short of kicking one of the seats. His heart beat in his ears, thumping louder than he ever heard it. He could see any hope he had of becoming legate go up in flames before his eyes. The promise Habricht made must have been nothing more than honeyed words. Then his gaze rested on Rausch’s back. How dare he insult me like this? “Have I done something to offend you, Legate?”

“Why would you think that, General Zorn?” Rausch turned and faced him, keeping his hands at his sides. “We have worked together quite closely for the last several months, and you have performed your job to the letter with your last reassignment. However, this decision comes from above my head. You have been given chance after chance. Mistakes after mistakes have been ignored, swept under the rug because someone sees the potential in you. Now, that’s coming to an end. They wanted me to give you two options, and two options only.”

Rausch held up his thumb and forefinger to illustrate the point. He paused for several seconds, likely waiting for Zorn to give him his undivided attention, before he continued.

“Option one would go something like this.” He put his forefinger down. “General Zorn takes the position of commissar at Space Station Vertyn upon its completion, a position he was pissed off about losing just ten months ago. He stays there for the next fifteen years, carrying out the rest of his military career in obscurity. No one remembers who he was, for better or for worse, and he retires to wherever he wants with his full pension as dictated by our society.”

Zorn scoffed and opened his mouth to comment on the ridiculousness of the scenario, but Rausch rose his voice.

“I am not done speaking.” He put his forefinger back up. “Option number two. General Zorn refuses the position of commissar at Space Station Vertyn. He is forcibly discharged from the military for crimes against the empire. Of course, there is no public trial and the reasons are swept under the rug, so as to avoid embarrassing the military, but he is stripped of all honors and loses his pension. No one remembers who he was, and he will never be employed by the government or anyone else ever again. He dies, cold and alone on whatever street corner he happens to end up on.

“Now,” Rausch said, folding his arms, “which of those sounds better to you?”

Zorn seethed. Suddenly, the promotion that seemed so certain before his trip to Stariek was anything but. His hands balled into fists. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to lunge at the man, to pounce on him and pound his face until it was nothing more than a bloody pulp. How dare he insult me? How dare he threaten me? Does he not know who I am? His breathing quickened, as did his heart rate. He felt himself taking the first step towards Rausch before he stopped, his foot just lifting off the ground.

The Emperor. A calm overtook the haze of anger. Of course, this had the Emperor written all over it. Ever since the stupid child took the throne twelve years ago, he had ensured Zorn never received the promotion he so desperately craved. Now, he was taking another step towards removing him from the military. He wanted Zorn to refuse, to be so caught up in his own pride to disgracefully leave his current position.

So, naturally, he had only one choice, which is to say, he had no choice at all.

General Zorn smiled at Legate Rausch, though it held no warmth and hurt his cheeks to do so.

“Since you put it like that, Legate, how could I possibly refuse?”

“You cannot,” Rausch said, steadily walking towards the door. “I am glad you were able to see sense for once in your career, general.”

The door hissed shut behind the legate before Zorn could respond.

Turning back to the station’s skeleton, he plotted. Occasionally, whispers of dissent within the empire reached his ears. There were those who felt the Emperor’s bloodline needed to come to an end. Some suggested quietly, others bloody. He never paid much heed to them, believing them to be nothing more than rumors. Perhaps it was time to see if they were true or not.

With the thought, a smile radiating warmth crossed his lips.

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