Chapter Four: Red Sky at Morning
The halls of the Capitol building in New Helic City were the last place peace and quiet were to be found as dozens of officers, officials, and staff scurried about the red carpeted hallway lined with tall windows on one side and spans of stucco and wood veneers on the other, the dull roar of the stampede filled with hushed murmurings and acknowledgements. In the early hours little light shone through the looming glass, instead the fluorescent lighting overhead illuminating the halls in a meager yellowish dinge. The time was oh five-hundred, a fact readily apparent on each face as they moved, though none marched with such a pace as the two men stamping against the flow of traffic, parting the crowd in front of them like the bow of a warship would water. One of them wore an expressionless face apart from sage eyes filled with an air of solemn purpose. His companion was slightly behind him, frowning and trying to keep pace as his dark eyes darted about as frantic as his racing mind. Herman and O'Connell had been summoned regarding both of their observations during the assassination though the briefing was kept at that, and an underlying sense of suspicion gnawed away at O'Connell as he stared at the back of Herman's head for a moment as he attempted to keep pace. Herman had been piloting one of the Gojulas' at the head of the column when the attack took place and though he kept his demeanor stoic and unwavering, this didn't fool O'Connell one bit. He knew he was bottling it up inside. Having lost his father years ago, and now his mother? There was no way anyone could be anything less than devastated by such events. Even so, the teal haired man did not press the matter nor discuss it. It was an admirable trait, on one hand. To continue onward in spite of personal losses was a quality held in high regard as a soldier, and even higher as a commanding officer.
"But at what cost? He can't ignore what's happened forever..." O'Connell's thoughts were interrupted as Herman turned abruptly and swung open a large wooden door, the brass hinges whining and squealing as the heavy oak they were attached to was heaved open. As they entered the room they were greeted by a stark contrast to the busy halls from which they entered. The room was devoid of occupants save themselves and someone seated in the chair behind the desk ahead, facing away from them and towards the vast window in front watching the crimson glow of the sun warming the horizon. Though the red carpet remained, the walls were lined now with bookshelves filled with aged and weathered tomes, filing cabinets neatly lined, though atop were folders and papers haphazardly scattered about. The office of the President of the Helic Republic was large, a circular room with a desk on the far side in front of the vast bay window, with a large number of small portraits of the past leaders of the Republic on the walls. O'Connell walked further in with Herman following suit, pausing to close the door with a loud click as the latch shut. Taking seats in the similarly dark wooden chairs in front of the desk the occupant of the chair turned, the two of them soon face to face with a middle-aged man with pale amber eyes and deep indigo hair as he revealed himself, Herman gaping and jabbering aloud.
"Bishop Pullerman, what are you doing here?!" The man's face was slightly silhouetted by sun now peering into the city, though this did not hide the many wrinkles that wore upon it, nor the wide long scar stretching from the lower left corner of his jaw and crossing his face diagonally across his lips as it reached his right cheekbone. He slowly inhaled before he spoke.
"Colonel Rob Herman." His voice was laden with thinly veiled disdain, gruff and low, calm yet deeply colored with distaste. "In light of these events, I've taken my duties as the newly appointed acting President to lead the Republic as needed. And my first act as President will be to order our troops to be stationed to combat the threats I feel are imminent, along with the closing of our borders to any non-Republic citizens as well as the internment of any Imperials or suspected accomplices of the Empire effective immediately." A bead of sweat trickled down O'Connell's brow as he spoke against his better judgment.
"Threats, sir? What do you mean?" O'Connell's question was met with a spiteful glance.
"I'm the one asking the questions, Captain. Keep quiet, or you'll find yourself demoted even lower down the food chain." The words bit into O'Connell like fangs, the animosity dripping from the man's voice. Herman's face snarled before he snapped at the man.
"What the hell is going on here Bishop?!" Unfazed and replying with the same calmness, he continued.
"If I were you, Herman, I'd keep my mouth shut and my ass in the chair. Insubordination and emotional outbursts aren't qualities a Colonel should have if he intends to keep his rank."
Herman gripped the arms of the chair white knuckled as he slowly forced himself back down. Bishop Pullerman had always been one who grated on his nerves with his attitude towards those below him- and now that he was at the top of the hierarchy there was no one immune to his coercion and scorn.
"As I was saying before O'Connell so rudely interrupted, in order to combat the growing threat to this country and her people, I am stationing troops where I see fit. With that in mind Herman will be stationed on the northwestern-most end of the Sanders Island, overseeing the commerce intake stationed there. Seeing as how you'll need transportation, I've arranged for your Gojulas to be replaced with a Pteras for transporting you. Good thing you won't be seeing any combat, isn't it? Not that you'd be of much use considering the outcome of the parade; a storm is coming, and the Republic has no quarter for failure nor inadequacy."
O'Connell winced as Rob clenched his fists until his arms were shaking, his fingers clenching as a few stitches on the strained leather armrests of the chair popped from the force. Herman would be smart enough to keep his temper in check, he hoped; O'Connell had hoped wrong. Herman exploded out of the chair, slamming his hands on the wooden desk and placing his face within centimeters of Pullerman's, and with a deep breath unleashed a torrent of malice- Pullerman stared directly ahead, the same dismissive look upon his visage as he slowly reached underneath the desk and pressed a single red button in discrete reach.
"Tell me right now, why the hell is it that you see it fit to not only disrespect the soldiers of the Republic, but the very peace and prosperity that my mother and father spent their whole lives building?! That the first thing you'd do with your new position is to destroy any semblance of stability this country has and treat anyone who's not a citizen like an enemy of the state and threaten to lock them away?! What kind of disgraceful, arrogant, totalita-"
Herman's enraged monologue was cut short, his sentence prematurely punctuated by the sharp banging of the doors behind him swinging open, a pair of military policemen rushing in with batons at the ready. Herman spun around, only to be met with a sharp blow to his left side from the nearest guard. Buckling into the blow, Herman swung his right hand and caught the man on the jaw, causing his head to twist abruptly as he staggered back before catching himself on the wall. The man looked up to see his accomplice bring down his baton on Herman's forearm, causing him to shout and clutch it in pain, before several strikes brought him to the ground as O'Connell leapt up and kicked forward, propelling the guard back, placing himself in the way of the man and Herman.
"Take these two away. This army has no place for the insubordinate and the emotionally immature. Throw them in..." Pullerman took a quick glance at a map nearby, squinting for a moment before he continued speaking. "The munitions storage near Leborio should be good as any jail." O'Connell could never in his wildest dreams have imagined the madness that was ensuing.
"Rob, are you okay?!" As O'Connell crouched down and extended his hand, Herman grasped it fiercely and allowed himself to be assisted up and staggering with a wince.
"Come on now, you know we've been through worse." O'Connell let out a small huff of air, what would have been a slight chuckle if the situation were different. As another three policemen showed up, the two were handcuffed behind their backs, Herman walking with a slow, somewhat limping gait as they were led away. He looked back and shouted, spittle flying.
"Just you wait Pullerman! I'm going to bring that office down on top of your head, mark my words!" O'Connell could only blink several times in disbelief, slow, trained breathing through his nose and out his mouth the only thing grounding him to their shattered reality as Herman continued screaming in vain anguish, as Bishop Pullerman walked up to the two doors and shut them with a heavy clicking of their latches, and an additional clack as the thick deadbolt was slid into place. Walking back to his chair, he sat down and the traces of a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Not before I see the Empire burnt to cinders, little Herman. Not until then."
CHAPTER END.