Chapter Forty-two

The Question Never Asked

Captain Ian Trainor

Personal Assistant and Chief Protocol Officer to Emperor Austin Burnell

I close the door behind me, and curse myself for seven different kinds of coward. I'm sure, if the Emperor knew what I was thinking, he would curse me too, if only to himself, and berate me, mildly, for it's not in his nature to overreact to such a small thing, and he wouldn't be wrong for kicking me out of the Imperial Palace via defenestration through the fourth-floor window to my office, either. But he's too good a man for that. He'd be surprised, possibly even hurt, that I've worked for him, advised him and studied with him all these years, eventually even making love with him, and yet I've never found the courage to ask him one simple question.

I've always known that he didn't want me to ask it, and I've known it wasn't because he didn't trust me with the answer. After all, I have been the sole witness to the signing of a number of Imperial Decrees that allow Amanda to do some of the things she does on her days off. I've never spoken of it with her or the Emperor, but I know from the content of the decrees that she is legally (but secretly, at least until the Emperor feels it is time to make certain changes and new programs public) continuing with the very work for which former Commodore Tucker was initially sentenced to death.

Nor has the Emperor ever been one to discourage questions in general. Once I've done my research and contacted other people who might be able to help me, I've never felt hesitant to ask him about anything that I still didn't understand. I know (because he told me) he believes the discourse that follows from honest questions asked in good faith so that people can understand one another will be vital to advancing the changes he is trying to make.

And still there is one thing I cannot ask him, and it's taken years to develop even the very faintest inkling of the reason why. Even now, all I have are suspicions.

I think it has something to do with Captain Georgiou, Major Vaja, Admiral Hernandez and some of the other high-ranking officers who advise him. I'd be flattering myself to say I'd noticed even before I loved him because honestly, I think I fell for him within the first few weeks of being stationed in his office, but whatever the case, and despite having no third party to confirm my suspicions because no one else works as closely with the Emperor as I do, I can say with certainty that he and a few other officers behave unusually in one another's presence. I've never quite been able to put my finger on it, but occasionally they get just a little bit closer, physically, than is normal. I've even noticed it in the outer office, sometimes, when two or three of them are together awaiting an audience with the Emperor. I've also noticed that they have a peculiar way of tilting their heads when they first encounter one another, though there does seem to be some sort of protocol to that, as not all of them do it every time. And then there's the way the slightly less senior officers always seem to give just a little more than the ordinary military courtesy to their superiors; for example, you will never see Major Vaja holding Captain Georgiou's gaze for long, no matter how deep and earnest their conversation, though when their gazes do lock for more than a passing glance, the air around them seems to crackle with electricity.

Zenobia Towneley was a member of their club, too, I'm sure. She demonstrated all the same behaviours and one more, at least when she was in bed with me those few brief weeks at the beginning of then- Colonel Burnell's term as SiC of the MACOs. She was always a big one for talking before we actually did anything. I realized even then that she was pumping me for information, so I never told her anything important; but the way she would listen to me, staring directly at me, not moving, barely breathing, focusing all her attention on me as if she were trying to hear my heart beat from two feet away, you would have thought I was giving her the passcodes to the Empress's bed chamber.

I've often noticed the Emperor doing the same thing and I wonder if he hasn't already sensed that I have a question I dare not ask.

The thought of Zenobia stirs another memory of a time when I did not ask a question that had been on my mind. I don't know how long it had taken me to realize she wasn't around anymore. It had been quite some time since we'd last slept together, though we parted on friendly terms, and the nature of her job meant she spent most of her time working on various ships in the fleet and wasn't often around the station anyway. But once I noticed it had been many weeks since I'd last seen her, I started to wonder what might have become of her. Usually when colleagues are transferred, they're either given at least enough notice to say goodbye to their friends, or in the case of an involuntary transfer they're picked up by a squad of MACOs and packed off to their new duty assignment in the most dramatic and humiliating fashion imaginable without so much as a word of warning. So naturally, when I realized that she had vanished, I was concerned. We might not have been friends, per se, but we were still friendly and I still harboured some genuine affection for her from the times we had spent together.

I would have checked her personnel file, but I had no reason to do so and I knew my boss well enough by then to realize he would find it inappropriate. So, I waited awhile, and asked around, and when nobody knew anything, I was stumped. For her to disappear so completely without anybody noticing I could only imagine that something terrible had happened to her or she was on some secret assignment. If it was the former, I could imagine no reason for her friends to not have been informed, and if it was the latter, I realized I probably shouldn't ask because I wasn't meant to notice anyway. But notice I did, and after another month or so, I convinced myself that, considering the secrets I'd already been entrusted with, my boss wouldn't mind my asking about my friend's disappearance.

His expression darkened, and he looked angry and genuinely regretful.

"She made an error in judgement that could not be excused and has been demoted and reassigned to other duties," he told me, and my expression must have revealed my shock and dismay, for he immediately added, "Don't fret, Ian, her mistake was motivated by blatant self-interest and a complete disregard for her duties to the Empire. Just keep doing your job as sedulously as always and you'll never find yourself in the kind of trouble she did."

Then-Colonel Burnell was an uncommonly forgiving boss, and nothing short of complete incompetence, blatant dereliction of duty or dishonesty in reporting one's own errors ever incurred anything more than a mildly perturbed expression and a brief conversation about whether one had identified the root cause of the error and worked out a way to avoid it in the future. I took his advice to heart then, and it has served me well for more than a decade, and though I've occasionally returned to wonder over the years what, exactly, Zenobia did wrong and how, exactly, she was punished, I've never succumbed to the urge to check her personnel file. It wouldn't be proper.

The Emperor's behaviour changes as well when he meets with members of this elite group, though in a different way to the others. For one thing, I've often noticed him taking a deep silent breath and rolling his shoulders before telling me to bring them in, and it might be just my imagination, but I believe his pupils even dilate just the slightest bit. It's subtle, as is nearly everything the Emperor does, and to anyone else it might just seem like a busy man taking a moment in his busy day to catch his breath, focus his mind and re-centre his body; but it often gives me the impression that he's preparing himself for a possible confrontation. He's also always, always standing when they first enter his presence. He doesn't always do that with me, or Amanda, or any of his civilian advisors, or even the Empress herself. But he is always on his feet when he greets certain people, no matter how casual and inconsequential the meeting, and they are always the ones who exhibit the same unique set of behaviours. The Emperor doesn't do the head tilt when they greet him, which I think confirms my suspicion that there is a secret protocol to be followed, but if the rest of them didn't do it so consistently, I'd think I was imagining it, especially when they also give him the proper bow that is part of normal protocol. Instead of tilting his head, the Emperor responds just to the bow with a stiff, regal nod. None of them do the listening thing with him, either, but he does it to each of them in turn when they speak, and it's something I've noticed him doing often to anyone who is saying something he wants to hear.

As with his other advisers, the Emperor calls me into meetings with this special group. As his personal assistant I am there to take notes for him, manage the scheduling of any plans or future meetings and provide him any relevant information as needed. Occasionally, and in what I take as an enormous gesture of respect, he'll even ask my opinion. But in between performing my various duties during these meetings, I can't help but notice that there are often several completely silent, separate conversations that I am not privy to taking place at the same time as they are discussing whatever is on the agenda. It's as if they have a secret, silent language of their own.

In ten years of watching them, listening to their silent conversations, and trying and failing to learn the language, I have learned a few things about them.

Magister Admiral Hernandez, despite her fancy title, ribbons, medals, and pips, exists in a state of permanent disgrace. It's apparent in the way the other senior officers sit at one side of the table or the room, near the Emperor, while she is relegated to sitting opposite them amongst the most junior officers of the group, and though even these rank no lower than full commanders in Star Fleet or Majors in the MACOs, it's a clear snub to the Magister Admiral who should, by order of seniority, be seated at the Emperor's right hand. The others only tolerate her because the Emperor allows her to attend the meetings. I'm pretty sure I understand his reasons for despising her – the mess she made of Amanda's investigation of then-Commodore Tucker and the assault she was rumoured to have perpetrated on the former Commodore being chief among them, but I don't know if the others would hate her as much as they do, or even at all, if they weren't following the Emperor's lead. I would hope, after learning of her relationship with the despicable Lieutenant Eloise Chastain, they would at least find her distasteful.

Captain Georgiou and Major Vaja are constantly vying for the Emperor's favour. Whenever one of them is speaking on a topic outside of the other's sphere of influence, the other is peppering him with questions that are clearly meant to be difficult to answer and often designed to make the matter seem unimportant. When the discussion is focussed on a topic that concerns them both, they try to one-up each other with acute observations and insightful comments about long-term implications. Every once in a while, when they disagree, there will be a brief stare-down that feels as though it could explode into physical violence if not for the Emperor's presence.

Similar dramas play out among the junior officers in this elite group with different pairs fighting for recognition from Georgiou or Vaja like a pack of hounds squabbling over table scraps. Though they're unified in their loyalty to the Emperor and the Empire, they're clearly divided in their loyalties to the captain and the major, and there are those among them who seem to think the lines should be clearly delineated by service. MACOs loyal to Captain Georgiou and 'Fleeters loyal to Major Vaja are regularly subjected to as much ridicule and harassment as their counterparts who remained loyal to their own service can manage in the presence of the Emperor.

Magister Admiral Hernandez, for her part, never seems to have anyone supporting her and no one ever appears to want to catch her notice. At best, she sometimes has a miserable lackey or two seated beside her who seems to do everything but declare aloud that they don't really know what they're doing there and they'd rather be nearly anywhere else.

There is also among these quarrelling factions a constant sense of anticipation or expectation, of a debt owed or an obligation yet to be fulfilled, and I think that has something to do with the former General Reed.

At least once a quarter, Admiral Hernandez is called upon to report her progress in running him to ground. On these occasions, the entire group focuses intently on her, almost like a pack of hungry wolves, waiting for an elk to make that fatal misstep that causes it to fall in the snow. The tension in the room typically rachets up as she describes her efforts to find him and explains why they have yet again proven fruitless. Occasionally, she'll pick up some trace of him, but he's still on the loose. After reporting her failure, she'll smugly, almost gleefully, look the Emperor in the eye and assure him that the order to kill Reed on sight is still in effect. Often, just at that moment, I will feel a current in the air that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and all attention will shift to the Emperor, who quietly voices the hope that she will be more successful in the coming months. Then there will be some quiet chattering around the table as the others discuss the report for a minute or two and the tension disperses before the Emperor calls their attention to the next item on the agenda.

There is never, ever any discussion about what else she could be doing or what new tactics could be used to catch the former general. It's as if this is the one thing in the Empire that everyone is willing to allow to remain status quo.

The Emperor has never asked me to share the BII data with Hernandez. He's never asked me to do additional research or screen new personnel to put on the case. He's never had me talk with IMRO about any advertising campaigns to motivate people to turn him in for the reward. All he ever has me do is preview the reports from his special BII team and relay them to him.

Not even in our private moments in our shared office has he ever so much as asked my opinion about the search for former General Reed.

Not even in bed.

I think he knows what I would tell him.

And I think he knows it wouldn't be what he wants to hear.

I think he knows that the General changed somehow his last few months on Jupiter Station. Everybody heard about the trial he had for the pirates and how he took them home to face justice on their own worlds rather than simply executing them out in space and leaving their families to wonder what happened to them. But some of the people who served under him on Fortress were my friends, and they told me he wasn't just calmer and more reasonable, he was actually kinder. He'd become more, if not forgiving, then tolerant, of mistakes.

They heard him laugh and saw him smile, and not in pleasure at someone's suffering, but in satisfaction at the end of a hard-won victory and with pride in the efforts of his crew.

They started to like working for him not just because they always knew where they stood with him, but because he became a good boss to work for.

I think the Emperor knows that, if he were to ask my opinion on the search for the former General Reed, I would say that, as long as he's helping people and not causing too much trouble, we should leave him alone.

If that's the case, then it will be the only time I've ever known the Emperor to refuse to even hear a dissenting opinion.

I don't know why, after all this time, the Emperor and his select group of officers are still so interested in seeing the former General Reed taken down.

And that's why my question, Why are we still pursuing this man?, will forever remain unasked.

What do you think? Would Austin ever tell him the truth? How do you think Austin would react to know Malcolm never hurt Ian? Would Ian's opinion be enough to get Austin to stop pursuing Reed? As always, please review if you have been enjoying the story.