Chapter 5

Power Play

Both Governor and Deputy Governor were under heavy guard at Mysidia's town hall, some miles from the siege. It was one of many restored stone buildings, originally a temple in ancient times, gleaming a pale grey in the afternoon sun. Several heavily worn steps led by round pillars to heavy oak doors, flanked on both sides by a number of sentries. Agricola had answered the summons immediately after calling off the attack. He was eager to let Chrysanthe and Gorgo know of his displeasure.

Despite being in his early twenties, he was tall and powerfully built for his age. His hair was dark and his face clean shaven to set a better example to his male inferiors. The Major's academic qualifications had been noted early, and he possessed a natural air of authority that had been recognised when undergoing selection as an infantryman. Thus, he had been steered to officer entry. Begrudgingly at first, as Agricola had been disappointed that he would never become the hero soldier he had always envisioned himself becoming, whilst growing up during a global war. Though he had accepted his place. If all went well, considering the losses both here and in Galbadia, he would swiftly be leapfrogged to the position of Colonel – on par with the notorious Selena Vlahos.

Except that the Governor commanding him to abort the siege had put a stop to his career before it had really started. He had achieved so little ground that the assault would be branded as a failure. That simply could not happen.

He entered the town hall, now caring little for the marbled floor and various statues of notable Centran figures. He did not even meet the eyes of an ancient Artemisia statue, placed between the elevator and the stairs, which most people found themselves drawn to. Cosmetically repaired, so too had Artemisia's beauty in this depiction. Although it had not done her flowing crimson hair justice, which had notably been inherited by her daughter, Adel.

Agricola opted to take the stairs, his inner voice playing in his mind, rehearsing what he would say to the Governor for the umpteenth time. The rest of the building's interior had deliberately been returned its dated look following refurbishment. The floors were an uncarpeted and polished oak, making every footstep pronounced. The stone walls had been given a coat of modern render and painted over with that light grey, which was realistically faded after two decades. Each rounded wooden door was broad, but with iron hinges that did not creak. The repaired busts of ancient Centran emperors stared into nothingness, as did the eyes within the oil portraits of long deceased monarchs.

When Agricola reached the office on the third floor, two soldiers outside the mahogany door saluted him.

'At ease,' he said, as he walked between them.

He met Chrysanthe's eyes as he entered, and she smiled politely as he saluted her. Gorgo did not, however, as he did the same. Agricola immediately noted a tension in the air, picking up on a tightness around Gorgo's grey eyes, a slight stiffness in her posture. It was as though there had been a heated argument halted only because he had entered. They both wore combat-ready clothing as per Article Fifteen. Agricola could see that Gorgo was armed, a standard issue plaz in a thigh holster. She wore a standard soldier's bodysuit, absent armour, which did well to emphasise her augmented figure. Though Agricola knew that was Gorgo's lifelong ploy. Ensnare influential men and women, then strike with her poison touch.

Agricola was young, and it took a wrench of will to keep his eyes averted from Gorgo's sidelong profile, and towards the Governor. Chrysanthe's softly lined face was devoid of any makeup, though it was only her age that detracted from her own beauty. Even at around twenty-five years his senior, Agricola found himself just as attracted to Chrysanthe as he was to Gorgo.

The Governor wore a tired and drawn expression, as the weight of her Province was indeed on her shoulders. Regardless of the outcome of this conflict, she already had thousands of telegrams to send and a lot to answer for. And there was no high estimate as to how many more families she would have to address. Agricola could not see if Chrysanthe had a weapon, sitting behind the desk as she was. She would have to do battle herself if it came down to it, though it was hard to imagine her doing anything in anger.

'You summoned me, ma'am?' Agricola asked patiently, to get the formalities done with.

'Yes, Julius,' she answered, gesturing with an open palm for him to take a seat, which he did.

'Ma'am,' Agricola started. 'Forgive me, but you are mistaken in calling off the siege.'

The Governor inhaled and exhaled slowly, her eyes slightly downcast. Her right hand slid from the table, and when it returned, she had one of those refillable e-cigarettes in hand.

'The army you face is both cunning and highly effective,' Chrysanthe said. 'It is reportedly led by the Armageddon Fist's daughter, who before now has challenged the Empress herself and lived. I met Zell Dincht once, when the Children of Fate were summoned to a counsel with the Cowardly Lion. If this Thalassa is anything like her father, then she will remain unyielding. It took the Empress and her many legions to defeat the Armageddon Fist. You may breach the compound eventually, Julius, but I cannot commit any more of our people to a senseless death.'

'Ma'am, I am forced to commit triage in order to wear down their power!' Agricola protested. 'White SeeD are formidable in their junction with the cactuars. But like with their Guardian Forces, that strength is not unlimited! We have the advantage of numbers, and we can deprive them of rest! They will believe that we can do nothing more than throw infantry at them! Eventually, their power will fade! Granted, the Wraiths of Zefer will never tire, nor will the Red Reaver, but I have been keeping an ace up my sleeve! Then, I will cut them deeply!' he finished dramatically.

'And how many more must die before this happens?' Chrysanthe asked calmly.

Agricola said nothing to this. Because he knew the Governor would deem it an unacceptable loss.

'Even if you defeat them, the Uncrowned King is on his way,' Chrysanthe pointed out. 'There are thousands of Galbadian and Timberian escapees at Cornelia, too.'

Forgetting himself, Agricola argued, 'Centra has had no army for a hundred years, and its descendants will recall only outdated tactics! The stolen vessels can only ferry a few thousand of the nomads here at a time, and those tribespeople will lack discipline!'

'So do your conscripts,' Chrysanthe countered. 'Most of our true soldiers are dead, Julius.'

'We will still have the strength to hold Mysidia and take back Cornelia!' Agricola insisted.

'Enough!' Chrysanthe snapped, raising her voice for the first time. 'It is ultimately hopeless, Julius! All I am now concerned with is the preservation of my people! Ten thousand deaths is unacceptable, not just a figure on paper!' She toked on her e-cig, then professed, 'I never should have invoked Article Fifteen, but I expected the POWs to march straight for Palamecia. The blood of the fallen is on my own hands.'

Agricola remained silent now, meeting Gorgo's eyes. Although he could not know what the Deputy Governor was thinking, her expression was certainly not an agreeable one.

'I am going to ask Dincht for a parley,' Chrysanthe resolved.

Gorgo's head snapped toward her. 'No, you're not!' she said firmly.

Agricola looked between them, leaning forward somewhat.

'Excuse me?' Chrysanthe questioned.

In the next instant, Gorgo had her pistol levelled at Chrysanthe's head. She was holding it awkwardly in both hands, although her expression lacked any doubt. The safety was off, and her finger was on the trigger.

'Major, our Governor has committed high treason!' Gorgo declared.

'How so?' Chrysanthe demanded, with a slight quaking in her voice. Agricola's hand inched toward his own sidearm.

'I've uncovered your message logs with the Cowardly Lion! It's no secret that you were never able to let him go! Your marriage failed because of it!'

'How dare you!' Chrysanthe asked icily.

'And after all our sacrifices,' Gorgo continued, 'you are willing to just hand over our Province to Christophe, and Edea's rats! You spit upon Claudius' legacy, and you stand as a disgrace to the whole Empire!'

Chrysanthe's mouth parted, though she said nothing this time. She gave Agricola a fleeting but pleading look.

'You are involved in a conspiracy with Adrasteia and Artorius to defect to Galbadia!' Gorgo accused.

'They have nothing to do with this,' Chrysanthe said resignedly. 'To my knowledge, the captains are acting under duress.'

'Place that fancy revolver on the desk, now!' Gorgo demanded, moving around to Chrysanthe's side. 'Slowly, with two fingers.'

Chrysanthe was still holding her e-cig. She put it down, and her hand crept behind the desk as she obliged, gently placing a large revolver atop it. Before Gorgo snapped it up, Agricola had enough time to see it was a Sepultura, named for the late anacondaur matriarch. Dollean, high in calibre, with a chrome barrel and mahogany handgrip. Rare, as they were no longer in production. He absently wondered where Chrysanthe had got it from. The Cowardly Lion, perhaps? But Loire had been Galbadian.

'In light of high treason,' Gorgo said. 'I am invoking Article Twenty-Three. You are to be removed from power with immediate effect! You will be escorted to holding at Palamecia, until you can be transported to the Homeland for trial!'

Chrysanthe's eyes desperately flashed from Gorgo to Agricola again.

'You need the permission of the Empress to invoke Twenty-Three, Gorgo,' the Governor said, as evenly as she could.

'I already have it!' Gorgo assured her.

At the sound of the raised voices, the two soldiers had now entered into the room, pickaxe gunblades in hand.

'Take the Governor into custody!' Gorgo demanded.

Agricola stood now. The soldiers looked at him.

'What should we do, sir?' one asked.

Agricola was now High Commander of all military forces within North Centra, and so held the balance of power here. If he sided with Chrysanthe, the Province would be lost, and his name would be tarred along with her's and Astinos. He would be scapegoated as one who led ten thousand to slaughter while failing to take back a single military base, and his career would be over. If he sided with Gorgo, he could resume his offensive and begin his legend as the one who annihilated White SeeD and saved the Province. The latter would cement his reputation early, and he may even be redeployed to Timber in time for the Empire's new offensive. He was young and ambitious, and to him the best choice seemed obvious, if not the moral one.

'Julius, please!' Chrysanthe said desperately, as though she could read his mind.

'I truly am sorry, ma'am,' Agricola said first, and meant it. There were not many politicians he respected as much as Chrysanthe. He then echoed Gorgo's command. 'Take the Governor into custody!'