Chapter Five
Illumination

Colonel Austin Burnell

It goes without saying that I have an enormous amount of work to do in order to set all my plans in train, but I've already done all the preparation necessary. The fact that so many Pack officers are now acting directly under my command makes many things far simpler than they would have been otherwise, and piece by piece the jigsaw of power comes together.

The thought of my soon-to-be blushing bride is never far from my mind (mostly because I have to step with particular care around those who are still firmly in her camp and may well act against me if they get the chance, at least until she's been given the opportunity to broadcast how delighted she is to take me as her consort) but it's a couple of days before I'm able to return to the Throne Room.

I'm half amused and half reluctantly impressed to find Hoshi (My confidence that she will accept my proposal makes me bold. I'm already thinking of her in the familiar, as a man would his wife, though I think I'll wait until our engagement is announced to start speaking her name aloud). seated on her throne looking as regal as ever, if a little sullen and unkempt; after all, she hasn't been allowed to bathe properly, or change or sleep in a proper bed, and reports are that she's had to squat over a chamber pot in full view of the guards more than once, though I'm guessing that's a bit of exaggeration. I left Cole in charge of the detail because she's the type who, out of humanity as well as policy, would have positioned a ring of guards facing outward around her to provide some semblance of privacy and spare the worst of her blushes.

"You know, you didn't have to wait two days for my answer," she snarls.

"Perhaps not," I agree calmly, "but the wait served more than one purpose."

Her hands are clasping the marble globes that terminate the throne's arm-rests, and I watch her knuckles whiten. "Just making sure I know my place, were you?"

"Among other things."

Of course she accepts my offer. I've left her no choice, I never intended to, and she's enough of a realist to know that one way or the other I'm going to get what I want. She can either co-operate or suffer. Or – if she pushes hard enough – die.

Now, all that remains is the cagey negotiation of what she'll be expected to provide and what she can expect to get in return. For this, I organise a table and chairs to be brought where we can sit in relative privacy, out of earshot if not eye-shot of the ever-present guards. There's always room for manoeuvring, if not much; for all that I've locked and bolted the exits, it's not in my interest to humiliate her completely.

I have an announcement ready for her signature, which she reads through carefully. Her lips tighten at some of the phrases, but she doesn't say anything, probably realising protest would be pointless. In the light of it we briefly negotiate her rights and responsibilities; she's more than intelligent enough to know she doesn't have much leverage, so she doesn't fight too hard.

The next part might be considered by some to be slightly awkward, but I've decided that the only way to deal with it is by being completely straightforward, if not downright blunt. When she asks about what conjugal duties I'll expect from her, she doesn't bother to conceal her pleasure when I inform her that I'm 'homosexual by inclination.'

"Yes, I can imagine the former General Reed was quite a demanding partner when the Triad was in power," I respond dryly. Though naturally he never spoke of it to me, rumours were commonplace. "One shudders to think what he might have required of you had he attained the throne."

"Randy little bastard," she mutters almost in reflex.

I can understand her resentment, since I don't for a moment imagine that Reed either knew or cared whether she was willing when he demanded her services, and might even have derived amusement from finding she wasn't. Still, even though I've told her my sexual preference is for men, she can't be left with any illusion that that means she'll be free of my demands in that department either.

So I hold her gaze and speak with flat certainty. "But rest assured, I will be able to consummate our marriage. I have recently discovered that there's a thrill that comes with taking a partner that goes far beyond any sexual attraction or lust for their body. So don't think you can avoid me altogether. I will have you, whenever and wherever necessary to maintain and solidify my position. And if you ever cross me, you will find Reed and the rest of the Triad were the most solicitous and considerate of partners by comparison."

My Pack conditioning and all my experience since has made me intensely observant. For just a second, as I assure her that I am going to have sex with her whenever circumstances require it, I see her pupils dilate.

It's a completely involuntary reaction. One that gives me information I'm going to have to consider, but not now, though it may be valuable later.

She sits back in the chair for a moment, apparently to evaluate her position, though there may be other reasons. Finally, "Why didn't you just kill me?"

I'm sure it would be nice to say I've loved her in secret for years and dreamed of how we could end up a happily-married old couple watching one of our offspring step up to follow us onto the Throne, but I won't insult her intelligence.

"Institutional memory," I tell her. "You already know the training and abilities of your staff. You know how the systems of government work. You have friends and allies I'll never be able to turn, people I could kill, yes, but doing so would create gaps in the Imperial power structure that would cause unnecessary and dangerous instability. It will be so much easier having you onside and, by extension, your allies; but be mindful, Empress, at the first hint of treachery, your friends will be dead and you will find yourself calling that nursery in the tower chamber home. For the rest of your life."

Then there's a bit more discussion about the division of duties and our individual rights and privileges within the marriage. Here there's slightly more leeway for negotiation and where it offers no significant danger for me and no inadvisable degree of influence for her, I give ground accordingly – now and then, and sometimes quite arbitrarily. I've no intention of allowing her to read me that easily.

Finally, as for the Emperor and his Empress, Ian draws up the necessary document for our signatures and I escort her to the Imperial bedroom suite. I encourage her to take my arm and smile up at me as we walk through the Palace with Corporal Cole heading up our escort, because I'll expect her to do so quite naturally in public from now on. I want no question mark whatsoever in the minds of the public that she willingly chose this marriage and is happy in it.

As the direct recipient of the smile I can't say it's altogether convincing, but I think it would pass muster with most observers. She even manages to come up with some polite conversation, and if it's through clenched teeth at the start, there's some degree of naturalness about it by the end. Hoshi Sato is a pragmatist through and through, which is how she got to where she is now, and she must surely realise that since she has no other options, she may as well make the best of the one she has. And I'm not being unduly modest when I say that things could have been a damn sight worse for her. At least this way she keeps prestige and some power, and the price is relatively negligible compared to what some would-be consorts would have demanded.

She's pleased – and, I notice, surprised – to find we have separate bedrooms joined by a common sitting area. I've had decorators working flat-out to get the suite done to my specifications, and while I don't pretend to any knowledge of her preferences I think her room is appropriate enough for the heritage in which she takes pride. The furniture is simple but elegant, some of it Oriental antiques with lacquered tops and panels; the bed and the windows have the same thick, luxurious drapes of rich cream silk picked out in gold, while the longest wall has a magnificent fresco of cranes flying against a pale blue sky and lavender mountains crowned with snow.

Mine – though I'm not nearly unsubtle enough to invite her to view it now – is more masculine in tone. Again much of the furniture is antique, but I prefer oak and leather, though I made an exception for the superb Hepplewhite mahogany and marquetry dressing table that dates back to George III. The drapes are a darker cream matched with a red so dark that the shadows of it look black, and the bed is covered by a spread of beautifully stitched furs. I adore having sex on fur, which, in the years since then-General Reed welcomed me into the Pack, into his Army of the Dispossessed, has often given me cause to wonder what exactly happened to me on the wolf planet. While my love of lying on furs may not rise to the level of a fetish, I would certainly say it's a proclivity, and one I definitely did not have prior to the 'specialised training' that supposedly ended with a traumatic brain injury and complete amnesia of the training itself. Reed and I coupled for the first time on a spotted deer-hide, so though I'd never have felt entitled to ask him whether he too derived the pleasure from contact with it that I do, even now, it may be one that's an inadvertent, involuntary concomitant of the process.

The sitting area, as befits its neutrality, is done up in subtle shades of green and has both plants and flowers. The furniture is comfortable but elegant, including several bookcases (with real books in them – it's amazing what you can acquire in the Empire if you know where to look) and in one wall there's a fireplace where, if we wish, a real fire can be lit. Grouped to either side on the slab of Connemara marble that forms a mantel matching the hearth below it are fine pieces of lead crystal, while on the top of the writing desk to one side sits a specially-commissioned Tiffany lamp shaped like a tree, whose bronze trunk is threaded around with gold and platinum vines bearing clusters of diamond grapes. Lying in front of the currently unlit fire is a polar bear skin, and though visions of domestic bliss are as yet a very distant possibility at best, this room at least sets the scene for such a thing to happen one day, if it ever does.

She takes her time to inspect all this and I don't rush her, though I have to suppress a grin at the thought that I must look rather like an anxious bower-bird as a hen inspects his handiwork.

"Your room will be your individual territory, as mine will be mine," I explain casually as she turns in the middle to survey it. "I won't expect to come in except by invitation, and I'll expect the same courtesy from you."

Her face registers surprise, which surprises me in turn. When I ask why this should come as such a shock, she explains shortly that she'd expected me to force my way into her bedchamber to 'demand my rights'.

"Perish the thought," I tell her with a shake of the head. Things are going to be changing, and some of those changes are going to start here. "Again, Empress, I'm gay. I'm not likely to seek sexual congress with you unless it's a necessary means to a political end. I'll have lovers, but rest assured I'll be discreet about it.

"I may, however, seek your company from time to time, as I think – if we get to know one another and develop a companionable relationship – I will find you a charming and intelligent conversational partner. Also, since you won't be enjoying sexual relations with anyone else until I have my heirs, you should feel free to request my attentions from time to time when you feel such needs and desires. I'm certain I can provide you with adequate stimulation, even if I don't feel the same kind of desire a bi- or heterosexual partner might feel. And what I don't know, I'm more than willing to learn."

"Well, that's…a very, er, kind offer," she replies, clearly taken aback by my frankness as much as by the concept that I might actually envisage having a civilised relationship with her as opposed to considering her a brood-mare in a crown. She's probably never had anyone speak so openly with her about her sexual activities before. Undoubtedly she's had dozens of lovers service her and certainly the Triad required her in their bed on a regular basis, but most people in the Empire tend to have sex a lot more often than they talk about it, and I suspect the Empress talks about it even less than other people might.

"There may also be times when you prefer solitude to my company," I continue. "At those times you should feel free to politely request that I leave you alone. I may not always choose to grant your request if the circumstances don't allow it, but I will be as respectful as possible." Then, just in case she's getting the idea that 'courteous' may be in any way synonymous with 'soft' when it comes to me, I catch her gaze and hold it, making my own suddenly intense and unwavering. "Just do bear in mind that if you ever make me have to force my way in, that nursery in the tower remains an option. If that happens, then after your child-bearing years are over, your bed till you die will be nothing more than a steel slab bolted to a stone wall."

An inclination of the head tells me she's received the warning, though only time will tell whether she heeds it. In the meantime I inform her I'm putting Ian in charge of the wedding and reception; the consummation ceremony where I'll publicly penetrate her in front of the appropriate witnesses from the government and the military; my coronation; and the birth and naming ceremony for our first child. I ask who Ian should work with at IMRO and among the household staff, and then, as the question occurs to me:

"By the way, would you prefer a physician or a midwife to care for you during your pregnancy and the delivery of the baby?"

She blinks at me for a long minute, then, "A midwife…In consultation with a physician. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I realise you're probably not best pleased by the thought of having to carry and birth a child," I explain matter-of-factly. "I thought you'd be more comfortable choosing someone and getting to know them now rather than waiting until they have to prod and grope you almost daily during your pregnancy."

Up till now she's been almost glacially calm, absorbing everything with hardly a ripple of reaction, but suddenly and quite unexpectedly she catches fire. "I know that, and under the circumstances, I probably ought to appreciate it, and at some level of me I really do; but if we're being so goddamn honest with each other, all this is really starting to freak me out. Why do you care what I want? What the hell does it matter to you that I'm comfortable with the person who attends me during my pregnancy, or that sometimes I might prefer privacy to your company, or that I'm sexually satisfied, for fuck's sake? You've already threatened three times to lock me in a tower room and force me to pop out your little heirs like turds every few months! Why not just do that?"

"Ah, I see the cause of your confusion now," I nod, sitting down on the nearest cushioned seat and gesturing her to take another – which after a moment's hesitation she does. "I'm so glad you asked those questions.

"You misunderstand what I really want. You think, because I want your power and I know that if this bid fails you'll have me made an example to forestall others who might have Imperial aspirations, that I would therefore naturally want to see you suffer if it succeeds, don't you?"

She glowers at me. "Isn't that the way it normally works?"

"I suppose it is," I have to agree. "And I suppose you think I want the power simply to luxuriate in it, to enrich myself and elevate my friends, don't you?"

"Well, don't you? One has to do something to let others justify allowing one to remain in power." Strangely enough, the note of bitterness as she says this tells me that she despises the dependency that is the reality of power; to a degree, ruling depends on the consent of the ruled. What that degree may consist of, of course, varies enormously. In the Empire, the consent largely exists because of fear, but in the higher echelons fear is generously larded with rewards. If you're afraid enough and comfortable enough, you don't make trouble.

"Naturally," I agree again, "but that something doesn't necessarily have to be bribing one's allies to remain loyal. Yes, I do want to enjoy my power. I do want to become rich beyond my wildest dreams, and I do want to reward my friends. But from the moment of my promotion–"

Fury flares up again. "Which I never should have allowed, and never would have, if not for the recommendation of that treacherous bastard Tucker!"

I not only allow the interruption but even respond to it, because this is something that definitely needs to be addressed.

"Really? You'd prefer Erika Hernandez to me?" I'll discuss the former commodore's actions and influence in a moment, but right now, the Empress needs to know that for a ruler who's been overthrown, she's fallen into a great deal of good fortune. I lean forward and make my voice harsh as I start drawing her the ugly picture of what her lot would otherwise have been. "Surely you realise she was not about to stop at being appointed Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military Services?"

A blink and a scowl tells me that she'd been aware of the danger but thought herself powerful enough to deal with it. Well, she wasn't, so I continue, overriding any protest she might have thought about making. "She persuaded you to let her attack then-Commodore Tucker because he was one of your most powerful protectors, and when he and Reed were off the chessboard you were completely vulnerable – exactly as she intended. If I hadn't blocked her, you'd be being held down and raped on the floor of your throne room right now, stark naked and in full view of the household staff, your personal staff, the Imperial Guards, the Cabinet, the Joint Chiefs, and anyone else she might care to intimidate or entertain, including Marla Moore and a camera crew from TETV. They'd all be watching as you writhed and screamed and begged, and eventually climaxed under her slave as he impaled you repeatedly with a cock as big as my forearm. And Hernandez would be sitting on your throne, wearing your robes and your crown, and laughing her arse off.

"And if you survived that, I can only imagine it would have got worse from there."

I may be exaggerating the size of Hernandez's slave, but only slightly. I saw him, first in T'Pol and then in Hernandez herself, the night she arrested the Commodore.

"All right!" she snaps, still showing as much anger as she's dared to since we took her into custody in the throne room. "You've made your point about the Admiral. So what is it you 'really' want to do with the power you're stealing from me?"

I don't think she'll believe me. I'm not even sure she'll understand. I tell her anyway, and I know I will tell her, again and again, as many times as it takes for her to get it. "I am a patriot, Empress. My ultimate loyalty is to the Empire.

"Yes, I do want Power for all the traditional reasons. That's what it's there for; but beyond that, I want to fix the bloody Empire!

"I want the Empire to be strong, not just big. I want the military to become heroes again, protecting our citizens and our resources within our borders, rather than just expanding our rule beyond our capacity to govern effectively and spreading terror and mayhem across the cosmos like a bad rash.

"I want the people to be able to trust that justice will be just, that it will be fair, not merely swift and harsh. I want to end generational punishment; it's one thing to execute a mutineer and cancel his family's survivors' benefits, but to seize their property and prevent the children from buying any, or owning a business, or obtaining a professional degree or license, or earning an officer's commission in the military, is unnecessarily cruel and destroys families that might otherwise produce the next great leader or scientist, doctor, educator, inventor or industrialist. I want people to trust that the government will treat them equitably, and that it will provide the services and protections it promises in exchange for the taxes they pay.

"I want to fix the economy so that advancement and a better life for one's family really is an incentive to work hard and a promotion doesn't become a setback with higher taxes leaving one worse off than before."

She's listened to me in silence, though with an expression of growing incredulity; but I'm not finished yet, so I press on and get the rest said. Because this is what I want and I have the power to make it happen.

"I want to create a way for unregistered adults to obtain formal employment so they can pay taxes, help build the economy and take better care of their children; and I want to make education, preventive medical care and proper nutrition available to all children, even those who aren't registered with the government, so they can grow up to obtain formal employment, can pay taxes and help build the economy."

"Oh my God! You're an idealist!" the Empress finally interrupts with equal amounts of amusement and derision.

"No, Empress, I'm a pragmatist," I say earnestly. "The Empire is rotting from the inside out. Former Commodore Tucker knew this, and his crimes were the best he could do to slow the decay.

"As SiC of Imperial Security, I've had access to a lot more data than he did, and I know he might as well have been pissing in the ocean for all the good it did. He made a lot of people's lives better, but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough, not nearly enough to fix what's broken.

"Unless we take action now, within a generation or two, probably within our lifetimes, certainly within the lifetimes of our children, our Empire will either implode due to external stressors, collapse under pressure from without, or expand so far in its efforts to grow through conquest that it will simply dissipate and vanish from history like the fabled lost continent of Atlantis.

"I know I can't fix everything. One man alone can't turn a river that's been flowing for thousands of years, but if he digs hard enough and long enough in the right place with the right tools, he can give it a chance to change direction. Even if I'm not murdered by some upstart seeking to usurp my throne – or by my Empress, resentful of my subjugation of her – I will never live long enough to accomplish everything I want to do. We've spent centuries digging this hole, we'll be centuries more climbing out of it. One man's lifetime simply isn't long enough.

"But I can make a start. I can make a plan to guide subsequent generations, and I can train values into my children, our children, that will make them inclined to follow that plan. I'll select tutors for them who understand the benefits of it and share my vision for an Empire where its citizens can be its greatest strength rather than its biggest liability. And while we will never have a love match, you and I, all of that will be a hell of a lot easier with your help and co-operation than it would be if I were to just lock you up or kill you.

"With you wrangling your allies to work with us instead of against us, if you agree to do that, we will at least see progress within our lifetimes. If I have to get rid of you, I'll have to kill all your allies as well, and then all I'll accomplish is rebuilding a network through which the next ruler can effect real change.

"That's why I care if you're comfortable, Empress. That's why I want you to be, if not deliriously happy, then at least satisfactorily content with your new status. If I'm going to have a chance of changing the Empire for the better, I need to start at home.

"Happy people work harder. They take greater pride in their work, and they're more willing to try to help the bloke who's working to ensure their happiness.

"And I learned all of that from the man you call 'that treacherous bastard', the former Commodore Tucker."

As I finish speaking I feel strangely exhausted. I never meant to reveal so much to her so soon, but when she asked me why I cared about her comfort and contentment, I had to tell her something, and once I got started, there seemed no good place to stop. And oddly enough, this is the first time I've fully and deliberately articulated the debt I owe to the Commodore. He has to be punished because he broke the law and was found out, but that doesn't mean he wasn't a wise, compassionate and foresighted man or that I can't carry on his vision.

"My people are in charge of household security now," I say, standing up again. "Please don't try to contact anyone outside of the palace without my permission. They will know, they'll inform me, and I'll probably have to punish you. You may use internal comms to reach any of the departments in case you get hungry or require any personal items.

"You're also free to move about the palace, so long as you're within sight of an escort at all times. If you try to slip away, you will be found, I will be notified, and again I will probably have to punish you. You should also know that my spies in the Household Guard provided me with the latest blueprints of the palace before I departed Jupiter Station, and we have already equipped all of the hidden passageways with motion detectors. So you won't be able to sneak out through any of them, either."

"And if I try, I'll be caught, you'll be notified, and you'll probably have to punish me," she repeats with mild sarcasm. "Got it."

I incline my head, accepting that I've made my point on that score. "And when you have time, please do contact my assistant, Lieutenant Trainor, with the names of those people best suited to assist him with the various ceremonies. He's working out of Della's office now."

She's drawn her shields back around her again, but that startles a reaction out of her. "D-Della! What have you done to her?"

There's an undertone in the Empress's voice that surprises me. It's not the note of anxiety one would expect from someone who's worried a potential escape plan has just been foiled or an ally has been neutralised. It's a tone of genuine concern that someone she cares about has come to harm. I've never until this moment had any reason to believe the Empress thought of other people as anything but tools for her machinations or toys for her amusement, and the revelation honestly takes me aback. Of course, I realise immediately that I could use Della against her, but then the day might come when I'd have to make good on my threats against the secretary, and Della's far too useful to me to be wasted in that fashion.

"I've done nothing to her at all, Empress," I assure her calmly. "She was a bit surprised by my unannounced takeover, of course, but she's at her desk working away as we speak. I like Della. She's always been polite and good at her job, and I have no intention of wasting talented help. She'll be perfectly fine as long as she doesn't betray me. By all means, call down to her office and check on her."

"I'll do that," she says, with an emphasis that tells me I have a lot of work to do before she even begins to take me at face value. "As soon as I have that list of names for Lieutenant Trainor."

I've made my way round to the exit from the sitting room of our suite. I won't take up residence in my bedroom until after the wedding. I guess I'm just a bit old fashioned that way.

"That would be much appreciated, Empress," I tell her, and offering a slight bow, though I never lower my eyes, I back out of the room.