Changes of the Praetor's Plans

[NDak 0]

Sun gleamed through the brisk morning air of the northern city of Sharan, ch’Rihan. Once a port city known for its fishing and heavy industry, it had been devastated during the Battle of ch’Rihan as heavy infantry fighting had centered in the strategic city. With roots and buildings dating back centuries, the once proud city was a shell of itself in the days and months following the liberation of ch’Rihan. Nearly five years later, Sharan had become the poster child for post-war reconstruction efforts as towering spires of glass and duranium rose along her skyline, while a massive new spaceport entered its final stages of construction on the banks of the purple waters of the Haeir Sea. The center piece of a multi-billion Imperial credit reconstruction effort, Sharan was now home to three large technology parks for civilian development, two military research complexes, a medical technology research campus, in addition to serving as the central communications hub for the entire northern hemisphere. The expansive Galaron i-Sharan Spaceport would eventually house a sprawling marketplace designed to be the third largest in the empire, serving as a gateway to the rest of the northern continent of Llaes’uu.

In the air above the city reborn, flitter traffic buzzed between atmospheric shuttles and cargo transports as the rush hour began. In the distance a convoy of drab-olive grey military transports flanked by sleek atmospheric fighters hurdled along the outskirts and towards the lush, deciduous forests and mountains that lay beyond Sharan and the Taelo Mountains that slumbered beyond the city.

 

“Do you remember what this city looked like just five years ago,” Destorie N’Dak said out loud as he looked out a window of his transport. “The whole place looked like something out of a nightmare.”

 

“Yes,” the aide agreed. “It’s hard to believe that we have been able to accomplish so much in so little time.”

 

Grinning and continuing to look out the window towards the glittering skyline, Destorie nodded. He hadn’t been in Sharan during the liberation, but he’d toured the city in the days and weeks following the Galae victory. For a moment he could almost still smell the horrible scents of scorched flesh and metal intertwining in a macabre potpourri of death and destruction. It was, he recalled, a startling moment. Sharan had been a city built up over hundreds of years by generations of Rihan laborers, and in but a few days tore down into an unrecognizable, lifeless graveyard.

 

“You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?”

 

Turning from the window to look at the aide, he smiled. “I always enjoy coming to Llaes’uu and Sharan, but yes. This has been a speech I’ve wanted to give for some time. It’s an incredible lesson of how much easier destruction is than creation, but yet we have triumphed in spite of that.”

 

The aide nodded and glanced out her own window. She’d say one thing for her employer; the man had a flourish for the rhetorical.

 

As the convoy veered away from the bustle of the city, the landscape gradually turned more rural. Lakes and rivers dotted a rugged, frontier landscape of small towns and cottages and before long the convoy began descending as the approached an isolated outcropping of four buildings on the side of a lake. A glow began to surround N’Dak as the buildings grew in the window and the convoy began circling for landing on the flitter-dock in a small clearing a few hundred meters from the buildings. Of all his families holdings, this isolated retreat in the far north of Llaes’uu was his favorite. As a child, and then young adult, he’d spent long summers months skulking about the woodlands, and as often as his schooling allowed, gone hunting in the wild lands of the 15,000 gaet estate that surrounded the wooden lodge perched on the lake filled with fish.

 

The large, hulking, drab-olive military issue Daeen-class transport touched down and her side entrance doors slid open. The Praetor and his entourage of his closest assistants, advisors, and aides emerged while D’heno’Fvillah dressed in dark, black uniforms and bearing stylized platinum birds of prey on their collars swept the area. The D’heno’Fvillahui, or literally the Praetor’s Security, force had of course already been preparing for their guest, but still over caution was the watch word with the unit of nearly 6,000 elite men and women chosen to protect the Praetor. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Destorie began walking towards the lodge where he was met by his Director of Imperial Security (an even more nebulous position than the title sounded) , Arrhne tr’Khalvin.

 

“Jolan tru,” Destorie said with a bright smile as he shielded his eyes.

 

Almost immediately, though he noticed the look on Khalvin’s face. “What’s wrong.”

 

Khelvin’s sober eyes glanced towards the transport and then back to the Praetor. He hated being the bearer of bad news. “You’re going to have to cancel your speech in Sharan, or at least post-pone it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“There’s been a problem with the Alliance’s mission.”

 

Smile fading to frown, Destorie’s countenance paled. Every time something went right, it seemed, disaster struck him and he was once again pulled into a torrent of controversy.

 

“Elements,” he said finally. “Bring me up to speed.”

 

“Of course, sir. I have Daise’Enriov t’Saee on conference call in the situation room, and Enriov tr’Lovaeo is in the air now and will join you shortly.

 

“Sarvek went ahead and let the organizers know about the Sharan speech. The press hasn’t gotten wind of the situation yet, but elements only know how long that will hold up.”

 

Destorie nodded and followed exhaling as they went.

 

“Preliminary reports indicate the explosion was caused by a matter/anti-matter device. However, we cannot at this time verify that it was a Federation device, or the delivery method used.”

 

“Elements,” Destorie said as they entered the lodge house and headed straight for a basement staircase. “This is going to be a huge mess.”

 

“Ie,” Khalvin said. “And one we cannot afford.”

 

Destorie stopped outside a security door and turned to his chief of staff. “Get a hold of Lkhan and get him here. Also Hvarol.”

 

“Hvarol?”

 

“We’re going to go public with this before anyone else does. We’ve got too much going on between getting our agenda through the Senate and the Dargol mess to get derailed by trying to explain why we hid this.”

“If you think that’s a wise idea.”

 

“I don’t,” he said with a deep frown. “But I’d rather deal with it on my own terms. And get me Senator Faeil. She should be at her home on Varae Isle.”

 

Khalvin blinked repeatedly and had to force his mouth from gapping. “Senator … Faeil? As in Senator Aeji Faeil?” He said in disbelief. “You know, the leader of Uhdan’Euar ?”

 

“I am unaware of no other person serving in the senate by that name,” Destorie said with almost Vulcan precision.

 

“Is that…” Khalvin stopped unable to compose himself. “Destorie…”

 

Destorie’s glance hardened. “I am going to need her and her allies on this one. They were the ones who wanted more Federation support.”

 

“They also didn’t want to go along with our size plans…”

 

“They don’t have to agree with me on everything.”

 

“You don’t think she’ll seize this opportunity?”

 

“I don’t think there’s anything she can gain by attacking me, but inaction can be a pretty effective tactic. Sometimes the lack of words says more than a thousand words."