Elder Council Privy Chambers. White-Gold Tower, Nirn, 2230 hours, Nirnian Standard Time
"Away with you, knave. I have no need of your services tonight," a haughty Dunmer demanded of an Imperial Guard, "And let it not be said that we nobles have no appreciation of your services. Take this and be off with you,"
A fat purse, bursting to the brim with gold coins sailed through the air and neatly into the waiting hands of the Imperial guardsman, who bowed deeply in appreciation. "I hear nothing, and I see nothing. Whatever happens here must be for the good of the Empire; and it is not my place to question such a generous benefactor. A good evening to you, Councillor,"
"Go. I have no need for your meaningless platitudes,"
Within moments, the guard had departed, quietly sliding the great oaken doors shut behind him. A silencing sphere immediately sprang to life from the centre of the room, which the elf bolstered with yet another of his own.
From behind the curtains of purple and gold emerged a number of richly-robed men. Each placed a bejewelled pendant upon the central table within the chamber, before assuming their seats. Within the centre of each pendant was an enormous ruby, surrounded by diamonds as numerous as the stars outside.
The symbol of an Elder Councillor's office.
With a knowing wink, each put their pendants back beneath their silk ceremonial robes. Their identities now confirmed, a wizened old Imperial began to whisper in a raspy voice, "Gentlemen. I am certain you are all aware of why I have called you all here at this hour,"
"Indeed. The state of the Empire worries me," grumbled a Nord, slamming his fist on the table, "The cat has acquired far too much power over the centuries. This much is clear. The most ancient and noble house of Windhelm, slandered and proscribed without so much as a shred of proof other than her word! She could have been wounded by one of her own assassins, carefully staged to seem like a true assassination attempt!"
"Calm, Lord Storm-shatter. We will need your calm and collected thoughts – and the wealth of Markarth – in order to achieve anything," the Imperial spoke, coughing, "The Empress has been in power for too long, and she has forgotten that we – the lords and ladies of the Empire – hold the true reins of power. We govern in her stead, and the provincial troops are paid from our coffers. We must remind her of her obligations to us-"
"Obligations to us? She owes her damned throne to us! We keep her citizens in line, the taxes into her-"
"Her obligations to her vassals and peers," the Imperial continued, through gritted teeth, "are non-negotiable and are bound by the laws of the Nine themselves. She may not deprive our liberties unless we have offended the laws of the land in some manner, and we in turn may not act against our liege-lady without righteous cause. We have not had any evidence of the crimes supposedly exacted against her person by those proscribed, save for her word. Not a trial, no investigation, and yet even today the families of Counts Windhelm and Dawnstar march to prisons. No doubt some crime could be forged against their names,"
"And I have no doubt as to how deep her bloodthirst runs," muttered the Dunmer, "Tell me, Fabius. Have you witnessed the bloodthirst of those night-walkers? If it were not for the threat of summary execution should they land but a finger upon any upstanding member of Imperial society, they would drink any mortal dry. I find it hard to believe that our 'good' lady has curbed her vicious desire for our blood, despite all of her assurances that she has mastered her thirst,"
"A fair point, Sarethi. Night-walkers are never to be trusted. If it were up to me, I would have every last one of them burned alive. Is a walking corpse even alive? Perhaps not. But I would still rather see them as a pile of dust. You have the right idea, sometimes, you dark elves,"
"Gentlemen. Let us focus upon the task at hand. I know for certain that the Empress' assassins are all away from Nirn, given how our...contacts...have started to spread chaos and dissent in Omega. But one can never be too careful, and we must conclude our meeting soon,"
"What do you propose, then, Fabius? Bribing the cat to look the other way?"
"No, you short-sighted fool. The Empress would have our heads, if we were to act so openly. And even if we were released on her orders, our standings and holdings may be reduced by the demands of our rivals," sighed the Imperial, "The power of the nobility has been greatly curbed by that Empress alone. I doubt that either of you have read the Archives, but over the past centuries, she has erased many of our ancient rights. If any of us are to ascend to the greatness that all of us are entitled to by birth, then we must remove her from power,"
"A fine plan, Imperial. Let me find a dirge, then. It seems that you are intent on finding your way to Aetherius as quickly as you can," sneered Sarethi, "Removing her from power? Through what method?"
"Assassinating her is out of the question. That construct of hers follows her day and night, and watches her every step. Not to mention the presence of at least half a dozen of her own assassins always shadowing her every move. And even if we were to succeed, we and our kin would all perish in the resultant backlash,"
"Then what? War?"
"A fine thought. The Empire is at war, and the Legions are all deployed to the front lines. Our own provincial armies could probably be trusted to seize control of our own domains and liberate them from Imperial control. We may even be able to encourage a few of the Outworlds to join in our rebellion, should we choose to do so. Some of their governors have confided in me of their great dissatisfaction with her onerous taxes upon the wealthy,"
"Hmm. That may just work, striking the Empress from the back while she is wounded," the Nord hummed, "A clever idea, Imperial. I should gather my armies, and allow them to test their mettle,"
"And both of you are clearly fools, it seems. Have you not forgotten of the mere peasants, merchants and craftsmen? You may have the provincial armies at your beck and call, but I can assure you that she is wildly popular among the unworthy folk. An uprising is almost certain, were she to be disposed of. What then?"
"I...had not thought of that. Curse you, dark elf," growled the Nord, stroking his beard, "Very well. If we may not eliminate her, then what of engineering an...accident? If her ship were to have an accident in the Void, then-"
"Destroying an Imperial dreadnought? The largest one in existence? My, aren't you an ambitious one," taunted Sarethi, leaning over the table, "I assure you that it would take far more than an inconspicuous shipment of volatile explosives to destroy that vessel. That is, if anything could be considered inconspicuous. We need something more subtle than that,"
"What do you suggest, then, elf? You have taunted us, mocked us; and yet, here you are, without a single idea to offer. Tell us, then, if you feel yourself so superior,"
"Why, it is simpler than either of you have thought. You do realise her popularity hinges strongly upon one simple matter, correct?"
The Imperial now cocked his head to one side. "What is this 'simple matter' you speak of, Sarethi? I find myself...intrigued. Please, do tell us,"
"Hm. Perhaps the Imperial reputation for political acumen is ill deserved. Consider that her power stems largely from her popularity with the landless commoners, the Legion, and the landed merchants and craftsmen. It is a very strong bargaining position, to be sure. A single word from her, and she could have any one of us removed by popular uprisings within a day. Another word, and she could have our dwellings razed by the Imperial Navy. They would never ask a question of her, so long as she maintained an image of one that is undefeatable,"
"You say, a 'very strong bargaining position'. I say that she has complete control over them,"
"Let me finish, you s'wit. If she loses her image of one who is undefeated, one who could do no wrong...why, she would lose her standing with the commoners, with the merchants, and with the Legion. We simply need to ensure that her war will run into...complications. A few will shake the faith of the commoners; several more will shake those of the merchants. A large enough defeat may even sway a few Legion officers. Do you understand, now?"
"I suppose. But how would we..."
"Sabotage is such a crude concept, is it not? I simply propose to aid some fellow warriors. Those on the other side of the war, of course," Sarethi spoke, grinning broadly, "A few highly destructive explosives in the right places, and a few powerful weapons in the correct hands. Perhaps a gift to the Khajiit's enemies...a misplaced shred of intelligence here and there..."
"Hm. We would not have to mobilise our armies, I suppose,"
"Nor too much of our wealth. I have contacts in the Legion that I could use to great effect," added Fabius, "And how would we get this across? Surely no void-craft could travel into their space without being spotted,"
"My, you're finally thinking one step ahead. Good. But you are still too slow. You see, my patron has a vested interest in her downfall. Call it revenge, if you will, mixed with a healthy dose of boredom. With her aid, no distance is too great, and no load too large,"
"Your patron?"
"Yes. Guardian of secrets and plots, the weaver of deceit and lies. The one who preserves the Dunmer through the ages. My good lady Mephala,"
Empress' Private Quarters. Wrath of Talos, Nirn L2 Void Staging Grounds, 2230 hours, Nirnian Standard Time.
"Your Majesty. There seems to be a distinct increase in discontent among the nobility since your address in the Elder Council Chambers," spoke a hooded inquisitor, "Your latest decree has caused more than a few of them to feel threatened. They feel that their property and family are in danger,"
"And rightly so. If they do not consort with the enemy, then I have no quarrel with them and they shall enjoy the protections which is afforded to all other Imperial citizens," rasped the Empress, coughing into her sleeve. She had been confined to bed rest by the healers aboard the ship. Their conviction that further movement would worsen her condition was adamant, and she relented. For the time being, at least.
"This is true, Your Majesty. But as you well know, where there is smoke, there is a fire. Smouldering discontent may not spring into open rebellion yet, as the plebeians still prefer your rule over that of the lesser nobility. Likewise, your governors seem to be loyal for the most part. For the nobles to take up arms against you would simply result in mass bloodbaths and lynchings throughout the Empire, even without the Legion's involvement. I do not for a moment doubt that even they would risk such an audacious move,"
"Indeed, this I have thought was likely. The nobles never did like my policies, even from the start of the Fifth Era upon my accession to the throne. Tell me, Scaurus. With the demise of Sits-on-a-Thorn, my Inquisitors are leaderless. Who have your peers chosen to succeed him?"
"My deepest apologies, milady. Our duties have so far prevented us from convening at Shadowrest to appoint a successor. There have been a spate of...misfortunes...that have claimed several of our members. We are, as it stands, short of capable hands; and those that are available are currently out performing your bidding,"
"That is most unfortunate. I would prefer that a successor be chosen sooner rather than later, Scaurus. Gather your men as soon as is practicable. I trust that you have other tasks to which you must attend, inquisitor? I wish to rest before I must meet with the Quarian leaders. Dismissed,"
"Very well, Your Majesty. The Nine watch over us all,"
"If Arkay watches over one such as myself, I would be surprised indeed," muttered Valeria under her breath, watching the inquisitor vanish into thin air as he left the room.
Batarian Hegemony Headquarters, Khar'shan, Harsa System. 2330 hours, Galactic Standard Time.
"T-The experiments upon the Leviathan of Dis were a success, marshal," whimpered a Batarian in a white laboratory coat, tilting his head to his left in deference to his superior, "While the dreadnought was far too damaged – and far too advanced – for our technicians to restore, we were able to extract its primary weapon. We have moved it onto the dreadnought the Pride of Khar'shan, but we were unable to obtain enough power to fire while moving. Diverting all power from the drive core and shields-"
"I don't need to hear any more, Korval. Having the weapon is advantage enough. Soon, we will retake the Lorek from those damned Nirnians. Order shall be restored, as it should be," replied the well-dressed Batarian before him, who stroked his chin in thought. In his other hand was a solid sphere of black, shining metal, veins of red glowing upon its smooth surface, "What about the other technologies aboard that ship? I was under the impression that other scientists have found a way to improve the process of augmenting our soldiers,"
"Augmentation of our troops are going as planned using improved procedures, marshal. We tested the effects on a number of Nirnian prisoners, as our own soldiers were unwilling to try the updated procedures themselves, given the results of the previous batch,"
"And? The results?" the marshal demanded, slipping the black sphere into his pocket.
"All subjects seemed to lose a significant portion of biological mass. Replacement of many internal organs and addition of cybernetic features observed. Docility of subjects post-augmentation is remarkable; they obey orders unquestioningly, so long as we hold a control artifact from the ship. Our slave traders could use some of this technology to improve the quality of their goods-"
"This does not interest me, low-caste. What of their physical qualities? The shipboard computer on that dreadnought spoke of physical perfection, a seamless combination of flawless technology and organic adaptability,"
"Uh. Yes, sir. These new procedures involved the slaughter of the subject in question, followed by throwing their corpses into one of several sealed chambers that we had found aboard the Leviathan. Physically, they aren't...well, biological any more. Not entirely, at least, and definitely do not retain any of their former personalities, as they were killed before being processed. Unique features of each species seemed to be amplified by whatever process goes on inside the chamber,"
"Unique features. Do elaborate on this,"
"Well...I think it would be best for you to see for yourself, marshal," muttered the scientist, offering a datapad, "My team certainly thinks that these additions were unsettling. Is this truly what is best for the Hegemony?"
The marshal raised an eyebrow as he took the datapad. Bored irritation grew to a slight smile by the time he had seen the first few subjects, and widened to a broad grin as he continued to look through the images of those that had been changed. The sight of skin replaced by metal plating, and flesh and blood replaced by all manner of cybernetics seemed only to heighten his glee.
"At last. At long last. Our ascension is finally at hand!" he spoke excitedly, "Korval. Your orders are hereby amended. I will have you convert all of our troops immediately. Any who refuse are to be disposed of. With these advancements, the Batarian ascent to supremacy on the galactic stage is but assured. No meddling Nirnian, no meddling Alliance- no, not even the meddling Council will be able to stand before our foot soldiers if their strengths were so magnified!"
"W-Well, that's all well and good, sir," Korval interrupted, flinching at the marshal's sudden change in disposition. Surely physiological changes so drastic would be a cause for concern? Or did the marshal care nothing for the state of his fellow Batarians? "What about the rest of the Nirnian prisoners we have requisitioned, sir? They would still fetch a fair price at the slave markets,"
"Dispose of them. We will not require such a small number when we conquer the galaxy. Then we shall all have as many slaves as we require,"
A/N
A shorter one than usual, this time. The muse has gone AWOL, stamped out by the onerous drivel of the monster called work. This isn't quite finished yet, but it will be drawing to a close.