The Immortal Empire – Episode 5: Vagrant III

Gene Starwind would never admitted it openly, but he relished the ritual of a spacecraft launch and insisted upon following it whenever he remembered to. His love of ceremony was certainly no secret to Jim Hawking at this point.

"Navigation data looks nominal. All clear here."

"Engine output stable. You're clear for launch."

"Thanks Melfina. Set course for the Vagrant System at the end of the Walkurein Shoals."

"Yes, Gene, course plotted."

"Outlaw Star, launch!"

It was still less than a week since Aisha had left the Heifong System, though to Jim, it felt much longer. "The sign of a guilty conscious," Gene called it. Jim told him not to be stupid, and they didn't speak of it in the three days it took to reach the borders of the Einhorn Reich.

"We're coming up on Vagrant III in five…four…three…"

As Melfina counted down, the Outlaw Star dropped out of sub-ether warp around an unimpressive, orange-brown world with a greenish tint under thick cloud cover.

"Establishing orbit around the third planet orbiting the star Vagrant Prime," Melfina announced over the cockpit deck speakers.

"Nice flying Melfina," Jim announced cheerily, glancing from his station. "Right on dime practically!"

"Well, I like to think I'm not out of practice," Melfina replied with a wink from her.

"It's no big deal, Jim," Gene chided him, propping his feet up onto his instrumentation as he often did and resting his head in his arms. "Melfina knows orbits better than she knows herself."

Behind him to the left, Suzuka laughed, sharp and piercing, rather abnormal for her.

"What's so funny?" a startled Gene asked.

"Look harder Gene," she said, pointing at their 12 o'clock.

Groaning, Gene craned his head forward and squinted before gasping. "What the hell is that?"

As the Outlaw Star completed its transorbital maneuvers, Vagrant Prime—an orange-yellow dwarf star—shifted from their perspective just enough that part of it seemed to flicker and fade before warping abruptly—gravitational lensing. A massive black hole. When no one answered, Gene repeated himself, "What the hell is that?"

"That's Vagrant A. Vagrant Prime is actually Vagrant B. 'A' is an ancient black hole," Jim explained, one finger raised.

"How the hell is there a planet orbiting a black hole, much less three?"

"There are five, and that's the billion-wong-question, isn't it?" Jim speculated. "Vagrant A's tidal forces are actually very mild, and Vagrant B's habitable zone is so far out that the black hole might as well not be there. They must all be exoplanet captures, nothing could've survived Vagrant A's creation in the first place."

"Unless you believe the legends," Suzuka added in her usual calm.

"I'll pass on those."

Gene groaned quietly and put a hand to his head. "Whatever. "Gilliam, can you bring up data on Vagrant III while we make our approach?"

"I thought you'd never ask," the deep, patient voice simulated by the ship's artificial intelligence, Gilliam II, replied. "Vagrant III. Terraforming level two, industry level six, public order level ten. Population sixty-eight thousand."

"I'm surprised the Social Democrats could get that many people to live there if they can see a black hole in the sky from the surface."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Besides, they probably lived here before the whole thing got political anyway," Jim countered.

"The world itself is quite ancient, at least eleven billion years old—it'd be classified as a 'warm terra', though it does seem to have particular bad and near-constant storms. It features six moons, the largest of which are three asteroids between one and three hundred kilometers in diameter. Additionally, it has a notoriously slow rotation meaning for a long day-night cycle."

"Geeze, what a hellhole." He put a hand over his forehead. "Melfina, bring us in. Gilliam, bring up Vagrant III space traffic control."

As Gilliam II had warned, their landing site was an industrial spaceport on a small continent along the edge of the hemisphere facing Vagrant A, though still within reach of the massive, swirling vortex storms that seemed to consume that entire hemisphere—though at least it was raining water. A giant red star underneath the silhouette of a fist grasping a hammer identified the Novokhabarovsk Republican Government's Ministry of Industry, the company's clients and the owner of the complex itself. The Ministry spared the crew the trouble and sent two officials to board in person.

"Big smiles everyone," Jim said as they waited by the airlock. Gene resisted the urge to laugh.

The door opened and two humans in raincoats entered—they pulled off their cloaks to reveal they looked utterly mundane: a dark-skinned, dark-haired one and a light-skinned blonde with a military haircut. They both wore olive-drab tunics with red felt insignia with metal pins.

"This must be the legendary XGP-15A-II," the dark-skinned one announced, looking around the small room before looking back at the four of them. "Crew of the Outlaw Star, I take it?"

Jim and Gene exchanged nervous stares, before the official laughed. "I really couldn't care less about the Space Forces' missing prototype, I just thought I'd have a little fun at your expense. Springfield, Deputy, Ministry of Industry. And this Senior Lieutenant Kazarian, Internal Security Troops."

The light-skinned one put on an olive-drab visor cap with a dark red band, just like his collar insignia. In doing so, he revealed the thin metal attaché case that was handcuffed to his left wrist. Gene was about to ask when Springfield spoke again.

"Is this your crew? It's more than I expected."

Jim looked extremely skeptical. "Really? More?"

"Most of the courier ships hired this season have been smaller outfits," Springfield repeated.

"Really? Who'd pass on a chance to see an actual black hole from the surface of a planet, between thunder clouds?" Gene jeered.

Springfield exchanged a look with Kazarian. "It's not a popular destination for most people."

"I'll bet," Jim muttered as Kazarian used a key to open the cuffs and presented it to Springfield. "Is that the payment to the Empire?"

"Affirmative—gold ingots, as they'll be expecting."

Gene and Jim exchanged glances. "Can we see it?"

Springfield gave a jovial laugh, while Kazarian stared ahead, looking disinterested. "No, no you won't. And I wouldn't try opening it either, the Ctarl-Ctarl will know if it's been tampered with."

"Please! We at Starwind and Hawking Enterprises are known for our professionalism and discretion," Jim explained before presenting Springfield an order manifest on a clipboard for him to sign, which he immediately handed over to Kazarian.

"So what can we expect of this depot world?" Gene asked as Kazarian meticulously read each line of the order manifest.

"It's the outermost ice planet of the New Avalon system, in the Outer Periphery of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, administered directly by the Ctarl-Ctarl Imperial Army. This is normal business for them, don't worry."

Kazarian returned the signed manifest to Jim, who took it appreciatively. "Thank you. So, since we're here…do you mind if we ask a few other questions about the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire?"

Springfield looked surprised. Kazarian looked immediately suspicious. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, as it happens—this'll be our company's first pick-up in the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, and we wanted to know if there was…"

"Excuse me," Kazarian interrupted, speaking for the first time. "Am I understanding this correctly: you took a job from our largely-unrecognized national government to travel an alien superpower that you have no previous experience with and deliver to us...extremely illegal military contraband?"

Jim abruptly elbowed Gene, who managed to not break eye contact with the officials. "Ah…not…no experience."

The two men burst out into raucous laughter, doubling over and holding their sides through their raincoats.


Navy Captain-Lieutenant Aisha Ayeshin, of the Clan-Clan Family. Age, twenty. Born in Hashiyo-Hashiyo 196. Valedictorian of her class in primary school at age sixteen, top graduate of the Central Imperial Navy Academy at age eighteen, promoted to lieutenant. Former commanding officer of the HIMS Orta Honehone, military ambassador to the Blue Heaven Sector of the Tenpa Stellar Region, promoted to captain-lieutenant. Demoted to resident diplomatic officer after Hot Ice Hilde Incident with no change in rank. Submitted twenty-two reports concerning the prehistoric space artifact known as the Galactic Leyline.

Those were the prime minister's own notes on the strange young woman who was being shuttled back to the capital—the navy had already sent him entire volumes on Grand Admiral Clan-Clan's wayward offspring. Tomas Koboro-Koboro didn't really know who else was going to read them, if anyone. The Minister of Foreign Affairs already had her information on the whole matter, as did all of the sovereign's friends in the cabinet. He planned to have a meeting with Clan-Clan in person to discuss the whole thing, but the admiral had been strangely…dodgy…about the whole thing, sending his sincere apologies for being called away for business with the 181st Royal Taskforce, the military fleet in orbit over the homeworld. The 'best' he could manage was tea later that day with his aristocratic wife, Lady Ayesha Clan-Clan.

He looked morosely at his desk, overloading with stacks of official documents. I doubt Lady Ayesha will be pleased by this, even if it is all for her daughter, he thought as he began reorganizing everything so it at least looked less haphazard.

The speaker in his desk beeped. "Your Excellency? Your son, Mr. Koboro-Koboro, has arrived."

He looked over the stack in his hand. "Send him in." As had happened in the past, the prime minister's son was not quite as punctual as his father, but he tried, or at least, that's what he thought. Koboro-Koboro knew he coddled his son—his late wife had told him as much, and who better to judge so?—and that affected his judgment, but he didn't really change his behavior.

Georgy Koboro-Koboro entered the large officer nervously and the prime minister set down his papers on a small table in the corner, circled his large desk and quickly hugged him. Like his father before becoming prime minister, Georgy was almost universally known by his surname.

"My boy. How is your wife?"

"Fine…father." Despite his best efforts, Georgy still behaved a little nervously around his father. It was difficult to explain why. He wasn't genuinely afraid: while he might have the face of a murderer, as his critics charged, the prime minister had at least managed to establish himself as someone his son had no trouble confiding in, even in preference to his late mother. The prime minister's rise in fortunes had directly benefitted his son, despite the considerable measures against nepotism taken by the law, albeit in unexpected ways.

Georgy sat down at his desk, at the seat where the Imperial foreign minister or even the sovereign might sit, though the later almost never visited Tomas in person. "And she's in good health?" As a child, Georgy's wife had certain congenital defects in her heart, especially rare among the Ctarl-Ctarl, so rare that they had gotten her deferred from military service in her teens.

"Of course father," Georgy replied, almost sounding offended.

"I'm sorry, it's sometimes hard to tell from her," he apologized. Nowadays, Georgy's wife was a very vibrant woman, her past heart condition more of a faint memory. The fact that she and Georgy had not had a child yet was probably due to other factors.

The prime minister recalled something previously forgotten, an oddity for him. "Her Imperial Majesty sends her warmest regards."

Georgy blushed. "Of course." There was a reason for that blush. It had been years ago, more than a decade in fact, during the twilight of the reign of Marianna IV and immediately after his own election to office. The Empress-Dowager Mariah, a princess and sister-in-law of the sovereign at the time, had approached the new prime minister: she wanted a husband for her eldest daughter, the child Kasara Marin Bakr Novo Hashiyo-Hashiyo. She knew the new prime minister, riding in on a wave of popularity for the victorious postwar political coalitions, had a son the same age, and she wanted to make an arrangement.

On its face, it sounded odd. They were both still children. But there was logic behind her reasoning: they'd been done away with centuries ago for everyone else, but arranged marriages were invariably part of monarchy. The courtship rituals of their people, the years of nonexclusive relationships leading up to military service and then actual marriage after that, were not well-suited to monarchy. The princess wanted a good match for her daughter, and having seen the prime minister's son at his inauguration, liked him. Of course, she was still the sovereign's niece. If she changed her mind, absolutely nothing stopped her from breaking off the engagement at any time. Nor was anything official; the princess may have approached a few other families for the same reason too, though she claimed she didn't.

Tomas, and his wife, immediately accepted. The peerage system had been dissolved centuries ago. They had no idea what kind of military career Georgy would end up having, but unlike well-established families like the Clan-Clans, his prospects were not particularly grand. From a social standpoint, becoming nephew of the Empress (after all, no one thought Marianna IV would abdicate yet) was nearly as good Tomas' own election to prime minister, and guaranteed to him. If Marianna IV abdicated in favor of her elder brother, it was a chance to move up to the position of the next sovereign's son-in-law, a promotion if anything.

That's what happened. Marianna IV's abdication, while an ugly affair, directly benefited Anton and his children, and only raised Tomas' standing in their eyes, at least officially. Georgy of course had no say in it, nor did Kasara. As empress, Kasara's mother hoped that over ten years her daughter would grow to love the reliable-looking boy, as did Tomas and his wife. There was no way to force Kasara to marry but it was a workable plan. During Anton's short reign, Kasara was already turning into a very beautiful young woman. Georgy had been promised to one of the most beautiful, and easily the most eligible, bachelorettes in the Empire: an incredible break of luck. He was not so keen on it personally, but he took it in stride.

Then Anton died, and his daughter became sovereign, with her mother as regent. The unofficial engagement was terminated immediately. Just as planned, Kasara had actually grown quite fond of Georgy, though whether she was romantically or sexually interested in him was unclear. But even as the son of the prime minister, a young man with a very modest record of military service and of average, working-class means was not the sort to become Emperor-Consort or, even possibly, Emperor of the Ctarl-Ctarl. To Georgy, it was an enormous relief. Tomas shared the sentiment. Georgy's mother had already passed, though she probably would have been disappointed in the missed opportunity.

Still, it was a funny thing to joke about in retrospect. He still got a chuckle out of reminding Georgy that, circumstances being a little different, he might have been married to an astonishingly beautiful princess (had she not become Empress, Kasara probably would have been as attractive, if not more so) and been son-in-law to the sovereign. All because Empress-Dowager Mariah thought her sister-in-law Marianna IV would bequeath her throne to her unborn children eventually.

"I-I have those in order, please don't touch them," he announced. Georgy had noticed him rearranging the stacks of documents and had tried to help, then stopped in his tracks.

"Sorry father. Are these all…?"

"For Clan-Clan's returning daughter, yes. I have tea scheduled with her in an hour—which means she'll drop by, stare at me in that hostile manner of hers for five minutes, then leave." Koboro-Koboro cocked his head slightly. "Would you like to meet her?"

"The Ayesha Clan-Clan?" Georgy asked, his eyes bugging out. "No, not really."

"It'd be a valuable learning experience."

"I'm…sure it would be."

The prime minister laughed at how much his son reminded him of himself. But better looking, he thought as he sat back down. "I thought I might impress her if I know her own daughter better than she does."

"You read all this?"

He nodded, making it clear that it wasn't any real feat to have gone through the thousands of pages sitting in numerous stacks around him. "Actually, it covers all the Clan-Clan children, but mostly the youngest of the litter. Really not as much to her as you'd think."

"Really?" Georgy asked. "Because the stories…"

"Oh, the stories." The prime minister shook his head. "Risley almost hurt himself laughing. Our poor captain-lieutenant has gone through a lot."

Georgy assumed a foppish pose in the corner, grinning from ear to ear. "Try me."

He was about to humor him when there was another knock at the door, which swung open before he had a chance to respond. "Prime Minister, sir, Her Imperial Highness is here."

Georgy turned bright red in his corner. Koboro-Koboro cocked his own head. "Again? Another one of Her Majesty's surprise visits…?"

"Uh, no sir, it's…" The well-dressed secretary immediate jumped as a slender figure slid past her through the doorway, grinning much like Georgy had been though a few years younger. The secretary pressed herself against the large mahogany door, as though trying to make herself disappear into the woodwork, away from the newcomer.

"Crown Princess Fatima, to what do I owe this unexpected honor?" the prime minister announced, managing to recover quickly. Clad in the expensive, loose-fitting robes of royalty, an eighteen-year-old woman with dark chestnut hair and an undeniable swagger about her entered. She had much longer hair than the sovereign, and was a thinner and leaner in her build, even under her baggy robes, but otherwise born an unmistakable resemblance to the Empress of all Ctarl-Ctarl.

Grinning at his secretary for a second, Her Imperial Highness stopped directly in front of the door, hand on her waist, then surveyed the office around her, stopping at Georgy, who'd gone from blushing red to almost pale, like the color had leaked out his face via his legs and onto the expensive red carpeting beneath him.

"Master Georgy!" she grinned at him. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Not an inaccurate statement. As a child, Georgy had known both Princess Kasara and Princess Fatima, as occasional playmates anyway. Now what remained was the expected level of social awkwardness between them, particularly between Georgy and the sisters. He stumbled on his words, trying to make small talk and failing.

"What brings you to the Office of the Prime Minister, Your Highness?" Tomas asked.

She turned to the Koboro-Koboro, still grinning, leaving Georgy to keep stumbling. "At the South Dorov Garrison Army review, I heard you've recalled Dawid Clan-Clan's daughter, Aisha." She sat on his desk smirking. "It's rare for you to take a personal interest like that."

"It was a request for Your Highness's beloved sister," he said a little loudly, at both of them.

"Really?" she asked, leaning towards him, managing to grin even more while her eyelids narrowed. "I hadn't even thought of asking her."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't have," Georgy muttered sarcastically. "Your Highness," he added after Fatima turned to him.

Fatima turned to the stacks of documentation. "Are those your files on her?"

"Not mine, Princess, the navy's." He kept an expression of perfect neutrality on his face. "Would you like to know something about her?"

Georgy rolled his eyes as the princess took a paper copy of Aisha Clan-Clan's ambassadorial appointment documents, complete with an outdated photograph of her in her officer's uniform. Fatima studied it silently while Georgy shot his father a warning glance that he in turn ignored.

"If you were wondering, we just received word she crossed back into Imperial space after some delay." Georgy paused while Fatima kept reading silently. "Would you like me to inform you when Captain-Lieutenant Clan-Clan lands in the capital?"

"I think that would suffice," she answered, finally tearing her eyes away from the document. "That wouldn't trouble you, would it?"

Ah, there's that sarcasm of hers. "No, not at all ma'am. I'll have my son deliver the news if I'm not available for whatever reason," he said, keeping a straight face.

Fatima looked up at him from her seat on his desk and began grinning once more, when the door slammed open loudly and one of the royal ladies-in-waiting rushed in, flowing gown behind her, as another one of the prime minister's secretaries failed to stop her. She stopped directly next to Fatima and whispered something in her ears.

"Really, again?" Fatima asked, her tone very different—annoyed and bothered mostly.

"The Kata-Kata?" the prime minister hazarded a guess.

Fatima glanced at him. She didn't smile this time. "You're very well informed, aren't you?"

He gestured at the columns of documents positioned around his office. "Well, I do try. Should I expect you to be leaving for Deitros Carinos?"

Fatima gave a genuine-sounding laugh, her head arched back, before sliding off his desk and following the beautiful bodyguard out of the room without another word. "Thank you for your visit, Your Highness," the prime minister dutifully called out before plopping back down behind his desk and rearranging the various contents of his desk that Fatima had moved when she'd sat on it.

His son visibly unfroze and looked at him. "Why would you do that, father?"

"God of the Ctarl-Ctarl willing, both the crown princess and the sovereign will have long, healthy lives. So as long as you're working in this office, even if I'm not, you're going to have to learn to carry on with them, regardless of what the past might've been." He gave him his best fatherly look, his ears drooping. "Now you'd better leave unless you're willing to join myself and Lady Ayesha for tea."

Georgy's ears shot up and he immediately took his briefcase and bowed his head—a typical sign of respect for the prime minister and associated office—before disappearing from the office.

"You're welcome," the prime minister mumbled towards the door, having finally reordered contents of his desktop. He had no intention of reprimanding his son—the daily business of government, the Clan Clan issue, and now the Kata-Kata, they all took priority over doing something about his skittish boy. Georgy was a good boy anyway, and Risley and the others would keep an eye on him. He frowned and looked up. "The next time a member if the Imperial Family appears, would it be possible to have all the doors between the lobby and my office closed?" he asked aloud to no-one in particular.


Terms to Know:

Empress-Dowager - Also called the Empress mother, the official title for the mother to the sitting Ctarl-Ctarl sovereign (though not a former reigning monarch herself).

- Emperor (or Empress)-Consort - The spouse of the reigning sovereign who has not yet been formally inaugurated as emperor or empress. Even after the inauguration, the spouse does not assume any of the sovereign's political or military powers (which, like the title of sovereign, are typically passed on by absolute primogeniture). The constitution deters a spouse from being appointed successor, though they may act as regent (as in Empress Mariah's case).

HIMS Orta Honehone - A Nipopopolas-class deep space cruiser in the Ctarl-Ctarl Imperial Navy commissioned roughly twenty years prior to the events of the series, and the one (and only) command of Aisha Clan-Clan. After the last Terran-Ctarl-Ctarl War it was reassigned as a consular ship to the military ambassador to Blue Heaven. It appeared in a number of episodes in both the beginning and end ofOutlaw Star.

Kata-Kata - Also called "Travellers", a ideologically-distinctive nation within the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire who are ethnolinguistically and ethnically different but otherwise biologically identical. The original Kata-Kata were violently exiled out of civic society early in the First Dynasty and then eventually off-world entirely. They have the only de facto independent nation in the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire.

- Deitros Carinos - A gas giant in an inhabited solar system less than ten light years from the Ctarl-Ctarl homeworld. Its inhabited moon, Harvest, was home to the exiled Kata-Kata, who formed an anti-monarchist, pacifistic republic based around communal agriculture.

New Avalon - A little-known system in the outermost region of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, near its border with the Terran states. It is home to the largest human-descended population in the entire empire, and retains its Earthling name for that reason.

Tenpa Stellar Region - A crowded region of several hundred stars, home to much of the Tenpa Empire, and the southernmost border of the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, as well as Blue Heaven.