I drift through zero gravity, floating as I allow my mind to drift to unknown places, peaceful and tranquil. Opera floats through the room; ancient high culture is the best way for me to relax, and I Pagliacci is one of the best. Even five hundred years after his death, Pavarotti remains as completely and utterly moving as he had been back then, or so Saturn tells me. This was our song, as depressing as it is. Vesti La Giubba is a sad moment, a moment frozen in the opera, when all hope is lost, and darkness at long last overcomes the soul. Many call me morbid for enjoying it as much as I do, but the stark look at the human condition is refreshing, especially to one who feels that he lives it every day. The agony of a soul in torment is kindred to me, and I revel in it.
The room I float through is open to the stars, a large transparent dome to the rear of the ship; when in zero gravity, those within it are treated to the rather unique experience of floating through space without any protection from the deadly vacuum. Vertigo can be quite lovely, I find. It is a room for relaxation and meditation, and I use it quite frequently. As the resounding chorus of the opera flows through me, I reflect on the souls that surround me, as the fleet moves steadily onward towards battle. So many of those bright points of light will be extinguished before fate has been decided; I have sent so many of them to their death. The cries in the song reflect in the tears on my cheeks, tears that I do not hold back, now that I am alone. To be the cause of one death is a tragedy, to be the cause of thousands is a travesty. A mockery of all existence on the highest order, for I truly believe that no man should have the right to decide the fate of another.
Opera. What is opera? Opera is the acting out of the grandest events and emotions of the human psyche on a stage for the enlightened to enjoy. It is the opportunity of the elite to hear the great indignities of life sung in beautiful chorus, that they may stand and applaud the fear and suffering of the characters upon the stage. It is a rather unique experience, standing in a stage before the many masks of the audience, feeling the heat of the spotlight dancing across your face. In the darkness behind that halo of light, you can feel the eyes of the audience following your every movement, hanging on your every word. Yet, for the purpose of the play, or opera as it might be, they do not exist. For that moment that you stand upon the stage, there is nothing beyond the spotlight but darkness and the void. You are uniquely alone, left on your own to hold their hopes and dreams in your hand, and to act.
Pretending to be something that your not, even for that short moment, is release. You are no longer concerned by anything beyond that heavenly light. There is no world, no trouble, no war, no fear or self doubt, no hatred and loathing. There is only the stage. I am on that stage now, reveling in the music, conducting an orchestra that is not there. The clock on the wall behind me continues to count down the hours till our arrival at Colony 32.
10:00, 9:59, 9:58…
I eat dinner in the mess hall with the soldiers. It is my right to eat with the other Captains and officers, but I find that it is far more enjoyable to eat with the sailors. They are certainly more fun to be around, I reflect as I am hit with a rather large glob of mashed potatoes.
"FOOD FIGHT!"
I don't know who yelled what; frankly, it's probably better that I don't. If I found out, I'd probably have to discipline them. Food begins to fly throughout the mess, and I find the moment to be ample opportunity to squeeze out one of the doors. Seeing all the food flying throughout the room has caused me to lose my appetite. Go figure.
8:00, 7:59, 7:58…
I've completely exhausted my collection of opera, unfortunately. I'm certain that the computer would have a rather large assortment, but since all requests that go through the computer are thoroughly documented, I choose to forgo asking for a list. Since there's nothing to watch on the vid network but old game shows and news reports that are making me out to be the devil incarnate, I go to the library to look for a good book. While I could call any book up on my computer, I've always liked to hold the actual copy. There's something about the smell of a good book that hasn't been opened for ages, the feeling of blowing the dust off the cover and stroking your finger along the binding that just can't be beat. Les Miserables is my selection today. Victor Hugo was a genius, and his work is unparralled. There is something of redemption in his work that is difficult to find elsewhere, there is nothing outdated and cliché about characters like Jean Valjean and Javert; I can often see aspects of their lives reflected daily here in my own fleet.
5:00, 4:59, 4:58…
Saturn walked through the halls of the Imperial Palace with distaste. So much white, it overwhelmed the senses if one wasn't completely adapted to it. Saturn far preferred the dark blues and blacks with which she had decorated her own humble castle, but the Queen was nothing if not… well, very fluffy. Fluffy was a very good word to describe Serenity, Saturn decided, and made a mental note to tell the outer Queens later. She was not here to critique the Queens interior decorating skills, which were non existent anyhow. She was here on far more urgent and important business.
The Queens met in far more casual chambers than the politicians and members of the Military. Throughout the room were many couches and soft armchairs, all placed before a tremendous window gazing out on the magnificent Sea of Tranquility, sparkling in the light reflected from the Earth. Most of the Inner Queens were already assembled, except for Serenity, who three hundred years after they had been schoolchildren together was still late on a consistent basis, and Venus, who was probably out trying to find herself a man willing to marry her. She was beautiful, Saturn had to admit, but often times came off a bit strong. Pluto would be absent, for she was far too busy at the Time Gates to come for such a meeting. The other outers would also be absent, both being focused on the construction of new Planetary Defense Fleets to replace the ones they had sent to Damien's aid.
Saturn nodded her head curtly to the Queens already assembled, and took her seat before the window. Following her lead, the others also sat, only to rise again hurriedly as Serenity tumbled through the door with Luna hot on her heels, looking tremendously displeased.
"Your majesty, that is the FIFTH hairdresser this week that you've chased out of here. It's not their fault that they can't do a thing with your hair. If you would just wash it more than once a week…"
Saturn felt vaguely sorry for her Queen, who looked to be on the verge of tears. Luna could be tremendously ornery at times, and this looked as though it was one of them. It didn't bear to be on the wrong end of the advisor's wrath. Once Mercury had gotten Serenity calmed down, no thanks to Mars' snide comments, Saturn began the meeting.
"As all of you know already, it is my belief, as well as the belief of the other Outers, including Pluto, that our kingdom is in a grave situation." Immediately the immature look of displeasure disappeared from Serenity's face, and she took up a very business like demeanor. "It is our belief, based on information that we have been given by young Admiral Damien Ayryn, that our Kingdom is facing an alien invasion of unmatched proportions. This threat is currently being countered by Admiral Ayryn, who is now currently operating outside the jurisdiction of the fleet…"
"To the great embarrassment of old frog face…" The rest of the Queens fell into fits of giggles at Jupiter's accurate description of Grand Marshall Zitov. Saturn paused patiently as she waited for them to regain their composure. "Now, based on calculations done by Consul Draco of Pluto, if we simply wait for this enemy fleet to come to us, allowing it to attack one Planetary Defense Fleet at a time, it will surely overwhelm us. Therefore, our only hope is to send out every available ship we have now to create one large fleet that can head them off, and destroy the threat. The outer Defense Fleets have already been deployed, and I have come to ask you to send yours."
The Inner Queens looked at each other, then quickly stood and began a heated conference out of earshot of Saturn. Serenity sat peacefully in her throne, gazing softly at Saturn.
"How is Damien? You haven't told me anything."
"He's doing about as well as can be expected under the circumstances, you Highness. He's struggling a bit over what his duty has called him to do. He's not very fond of being called a traitor, you know. None of the Big Three are terribly pleased with how things have gone."
"The Big Three?" The Queen looked completely clueless.
"A historical reference, your highness. In the mid twentieth century, during the Second World War, the heads of the three major allied nations were known as the Big Three. Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin. In our case, the Big Three are Damien, Jacen, and Draco."
The queen continued to look absolutely clueless, and Saturn sighed.
"As I said, your majesty, it was a historical reference. You never did very well in history, did you?"
The debate ended, the other Queens came back, Jupiter looking rather pleased with herself, while Mercury sent her several nasty glares.
"We understand that Consul Draco is to make a speech before the Assembly in two hours. We have decided that we will wait to make our decision until we hear what he has to say."
Saturn nodded. It had not been the outcome that she had been hoping for, but it was certainly better than nothing. Still, by the time the speech was made, the Outer Fleet would almost be upon the enemy. By then, it might be too late.
4:00, 3:59, 3:58…
Consul to Pluto Alexei Draco stood just inside the door opening to the Assembly hall, nervously straightening the lapels on his uniform. This was the moment of truth. If he could not convince the assembly of his claims, there would be no chance that the Queen would risk the Planetary Fleets. For the first time since the Academy, the responsibility rested with him, and he wasn't sure that he liked the feeling. As he stood shaking in his shined leather shoes, the doors to the chamber were flung open, and his name called.
The chamber was daunting from the moment he entered it, the lines of seats rising skyward toward the massive vaulted ceiling. All around him the applause echoed, and he winced, knowing full well this might be the last time he would here it. He made his way slowly towards the podium, unconsciously shaking the hands that were offered to him. As he took his place before the great hall, he again straightened his collar and shuffled his notes. There was nothing for it; he could not put off the moment any longer. He turned and bowed stiffly to the Queens seated on their thrones behind them, and to the Presidents of the Assembly, then he turned and once more faced his captive audience.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of this assembled body, I bring before you today a chance. In the future, mankind may look back upon this moment with wonder, and will marvel at the chance that you have, for it may very well be that they will never have this luxury. We stand upon the edge of a great precipice, gazing out into the darkest void. Even at this late hour, as I come before you with great urgency, our greatest fleet is poised to strike at the alien menace that even know sits upon our doorstep. Alone, this rogue fleet stands a very slim chance of victory, a chance that gets smaller with every passing moment. You have the opportunity to change that." As he spoke, he was dimly aware of his voice rising in pitch, his hands beginning to sweat as he became more and more agitated. "This chance, your last, is to authorize the immediate deployment of every ship in the Kingdom to the aide of Admiral Ayryn and his fleet. No matter what the size, class, every ship available must be sent. I cannot impress upon you the urgency of this matter. In the past, such a request could have been sent through the appropriate channels, and I would not be forced to stand before you today, but this is sadly not the case. Every attempt we have made to gain the support of the Military has been met with nothing but resistance. They refuse to hear reason, so you must. You MUST do as we ask, for it you do not, this Kingdom will not survive the year." Draco found himself intentionally avoiding the intense gazes of the Admiralty. Around the room, at each of the exits, he could see soldiers entering the chamber, taking up positions to prevent him from escaping. For some reason, the knowledge that he would not leave the room a free man comforted him, and he was able to steady his shaking voice.
"The leaders of the military would have you believe that I, like my comrades out on the front, are nothing more than subversive traitors, seeking glory, or worse, power. They would have you believe that there is no danger, that life can remain the same as it has for the past centuries. In my heart, I would like to believe nothing more, but I know better, and because of the information that awaits you back in your offices, you will as well. We cannot imagine that no change will come to us. It is the very nature of this universe we inhabit to be in a constant state of flux. Nothing can remain the same forever, and the more we try to prevent it, the more violent that change will be when it comes. Now, there is no longer any way to prevent this change from happening, but there is still hope that we can survive that change. All I ask is that you investigate the information that has been sent to you thoroughly, and that you do so as rapidly as possible. If you do not, all I can promise you is war, and inevitable annihilation."
Completely spent, he almost visibly deflated. There was no applause now, only a hushed silence, as every member of the assembled Congress stared intently at him. And then they came. Down every aisle, walking amongst the diplomats, the soldiers advanced, their weapons trained on him, the only sound in the hall that of their boots clicking against the marble. They came and stood before him, and he came down to meet them, allowing himself to be escorted from the hall, marched out like a common traitor. He allowed himself one glance back at Pluto, who gave him a confused, mortified look, and then the doors closed, obscuring his vision of the podium, and she was gone. As though triggered by the sound of the doors closing, the hall erupted into furious debate, as each member attempted to make his voice heard. Draco allowed his head to drop. His part in this grand drama had reached its close, he knew, and he was at peace with that. He looked at the soldiers whose firm grip on his arm was keeping him on his feet. "There are a few things that I need to do, before…" He allowed his voice to trail off, and after a moments hesitation, they nodded.
Back within the Chamber, Grand Marshall Zitov rose from his seat and with supreme confidence, strode up to the podium, and cleared his throat. The assembled body fell silent. Never before had they been addressed directly by a member of the Military.
"Because of the apparent reach of this treasonous conspiracy against the Kingdom of the Moon, I regret to inform all the members of this body that from this moment on, the Kingdom is now under Marshal Law. I would request that you all return to your homes and await further instruction from the military." He turned and gave a stony smile to the Queens behind him. "If your majesties would be as kind as to return to the palace, my soldiers will make absolutely certain that no traitors will be given access to you, so that we can be assured of your continued safety. If you will just accompany my men, we will have this resolved in no time." Before they could find their voices to object, soldiers rapidly marched them out of the hall, followed quickly by Zitov and the others. Zitov allowed himself a brief smile, then turned to the others.
"I want every member of this congress who sympathizes with the Consul's claims arrested at once. And I want the Consul taken care of. Do you understand me?" They nodded. Zitov smiled again. This madness would end here, he knew. It had too.
1:00, 0:59, 0:58…
Draco finished his phone calls, and as he hung up for the last time, he gave a small sigh. Hopefully, his warnings would be enough to prevent more damage being done than was necessary. He then allowed himself to be escorted down into the bowels of the Imperial Secret Police Headquarters, to a small, windowless room. He took his seat at the chair in the center of the room, and once more straightened his collar, out of force of habit. He could hear the man walking up behind him, and gently closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. He never heard the shot that ended his short, but meteoric career.
From the locked room in the palace to which they had been escorted, the Queens could hear the sounds of sirens throughout the city. The vid's had all been cut, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. It was a coup, all around them they could hear the sounds of a purge being conducted with ruthless efficiency. In the stillness of the lunar night, the gunshots rang out with a special, cold intensity, and from the wide window, they could see the flashes of light from the streets below. Saturn let out a soft, low sigh.
"So beautiful."
The other Queens gave her a sharp look, and Mars seemed on the verge of saying something, but then caught herself, and gazed back out of the window. Serenity sat with an understated grace as far from the window as she could get, lost deep in thought.
Pluto looked up into the night sky at the earth, rising high above them.
"So, this is how centuries of peace end."
Saturn gave her a sharp smile. "Indeed. Shall we throw our lot in as well?" Pluto nodded, and Saturn summoned the Glaive with a quick flourish. In an instant, the doors were gone and the guards dead, and the Queens had vanished into the labyrinth like corridors of the palace.
3, 2, 1, 0
Ah yes, another chapter, another major character killed off. Don't hurt me...
