Act 2 - Bargaining[]
With A Bared Sword[]
Chapter 46[]
<<Previous Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
Avalon City, New Avalon
Coventry March, Federated Commonwealth
3 February 3058
The command circuit back from Terra Firma had taken its toll on Kate and she’d slept only fitfully as the shuttle made its approach to New Avalon. The last jump had been aboard a Merchant jumpship scheduled to carry wounded soldiers to the NAIS College of Medicine for treatments they could not receive anywhere else. Rather than bump the dropships, a small shuttle had been crammed into the jumpship’s hangar. Her ‘mech and all but a small escort would wait for a later jumpship.
The traffic through the proximity point between New Avalon and its star was heavily regulated, but it cut the transit time to the surface to hours rather than days. The only closer options were the points created by the capital’s three moons and their own interactions made those too hazardous for regular use.
Two gravities of acceleration would have been ill-advised for the wounded, so their DropShips would take more than a day to arrive. Kate felt that the short-term pain of the experience was worth it - a chance to get home and rest in her own bed before what would no doubt be a busy schedule of catching up with everything she’d missed.
The roar of superheated air around the shuttle died down and the princess was able to look out of the window at the landscape below as the shuttle rolled and began its final deceleration burn, angling down towards Castle Davion. Much like most working DropShips, the small vessel was a roughly globular shape, mounted above the engines. The upper hull made up the heat shield for re-entry but now that they were coming in to land, she could see the fields and forests below, giving way to the sprawling capital city - great towers, open campuses, the mansions of the wealthy and the factories and warehouses needed to make the entire complex metropolis function, the whole knit together by highways and a network of elevated railways.
Castle Davion rose above it all, as it had for centuries. The deliberately archaic structures with their gothic architecture and vast size were inimitable, immortalized for years on bank notes as well as every conceivable form of recording.
The shuttle settled towards one of the small pads on the edge of the drop port. It didn’t need quite as much clearance as a DropShip would, but it was still a fusion torch being pointed at the ground.
“Your highness.” The hauptmann leading her escort platoon leant over as far as he could given seat constraints. “Your sister is waiting for you at the terminal.”
Kate smiled with some relief. “Of course she is.” Probably to make some reasonable complaints about the delays in returning. She’d never intended to leave Yvonne handling the public duties as long as she had.
The shuttle touched down, the sound of the engines fading and as soon as it was deemed safe, Kate unstrapped herself and picked up the small bag that was her only luggage. She didn’t need to carry much with her - most of her possessions would either catch up shortly or were already waiting for her at Castle Davion - so it was just an overnight bag. “I’ll carry it myself,” she told the officer when he reached for it. “You’re already busy keeping me safe.”
“If you say so, Your Highness.”
“You are senior to me, so I suppose you could insist,” she joked and then took her place in the middle of the queue of guardsmen ready to disembark. She wore the same duty uniform as the rest of the Davion Guards so she wouldn’t stand out if there really was a threat waiting.
By the time she was at the hatch, bright afternoon sun making her wish she’d brought sunglasses, a limousine was screaming across the ferrocrete towards them - moving fast enough that the leading elements of the platoon were even taking defensive positions until the aircar skidded to a halt - the driver expertly bringing it up to the line marking how close any vehicle should approach.
The door swung open and Yvonne leant out. “Kate!”
“Yvonne!” she called back, smiling and waving. Then the gesture faltered as she saw her sister’s face. “What’s wrong?”
The redhead climbed out, waving a newspaper. “Politics!” she exclaimed.
Kate crossed to her and accepted the broadsheet, unfolding it to see the front page. Then she said a number of things that Mom would have scrubbed her mouth out with soap and water for. Personally, not even handing the job over to staff.
“Yeah,” Yvonne agreed, rather than teasing her.
The main headline was explosive. ‘STEINER-KURITA ROMANCE?!’ it shouted. And below it, taking up almost half the page was an image of their oldest brother talking to Omi Kurita. It must have been taken years ago… at Dad’s funeral? Perhaps even earlier - on Outreach. She wasn’t sure.
But the expressions on their faces were perfectly clear. The photographer had done a wonderful job of capturing the feelings between them.
.jpeg){kind=link}
Omiko Kurita
If there was nothing else, that would have been damning, but the story below wasn’t just speculation on that one fact. No, someone had talked. Someone close to the royal family. Someone who was able to give far too much information about the relationship between Victor and Omi. And yet, at the same time, they gave too little.
Meetings, kept discreet to avoid this sort of attention. Those were mentioned.
But the understandings that those meetings must be entirely chaste were not. The reality that this Romeo and Juliet had no intention of letting their feelings destroy them was not touched on. Instead, the delicately woven gaps left room to imagine a fairy-tale romance that was well on its way to ‘sealing the deal’ of a dynastic marriage.
Oh, nothing was clearly said. Everything was speculation. Some of it was even couched sympathetically. Not that it mattered.
It wasn’t even some tawdry tabloid. The Inquirer was a reputable paper, one of the mainstays of conservative political discussion on New Avalon. And this was the morning’s paper.
“How bad,” Kate asked simply, tossing the paper back to her sister.
Yvonne caught it. “There haven’t been riots… but there is already a demonstration outside the gates. Victor canceling the reinforcements to Skye was the -”
“He what?” She had been out of contact for less than three days!
Her sister made a face. “The Jade Falcons are hitting Coventry Province, so he’s negotiating an armistice with Thomas Marik. That’s what the demonstration was about, but they’re going to have more things to put on placards now.”
The sun was no longer the sole cause of Kate’s headache. “Welcome home, Kate…” she said. “Dammit, Victor!”
She got a hug from Yvonne. “Welcome home.” And then: “The High Council is meeting right now. Those who didn’t go home.”
The elder sister nodded wearily. Many of the High Council had arranged to prolong their usual autumn visits to the capital in hope of attending a Christmas coronation. Even once it became evident that this wouldn’t be the case, inertia had kept most of them on New Avalon. But… “How many of them?”
“I think they have a quorum.” Yvonne gestured towards the limousine. “Uncle Hammond and Uncle James are trying to keep them from doing anything rash but I think they might need help.”
Kate threw her bag inside and climbed in after. The High Council dated back to the foundation of the Federated Suns, a legislative body that had elected the first Davion Presidents. Presidents and then First Princes had had to work with the High Council, but the Succession Wars had demanded greater centralization of power to direct a war effort that lasted for generations. The High Council met every year and approved the decisions of the First Prince with little dissent.
But in theory they did not have to. They were the voices of the planetary governments of every member world in the Federated Suns and exactly how much power they had in the Federated Commonwealth was a very fuzzy issue.
It was a point Kate was left musing over as the limousine took off for the great hall of the castle at top speed. The paved roadway rushed by underneath them, various landmarks going by in a blur that was only partly due to her distraction by political calculations. Yvonne gave name after name of those present and even just the key leaders made it clear that more than a few of those attending were those who had complained about Victor’s policies in the past.
The journey was over entirely too soon, the limousine arriving at one of the side entrances to the grand structure. Kate hopped out, wishing she was dressed slightly more formally than a duty uniform. Then again, it might play well. The Suns was traditionally very favorably inclined towards it’s soldiers.
The sisters passed sentries at the main door, then Kate led the way through the network of side rooms until she arrived at one of the discreetly placed entrances to the main dais. There were guards here as well, two men in the First Davion Royal Guards. They saluted crisply as she approached and Kate returned the gesture before she opened the door.
The great hall was full. Seating had been laid out, as was customary for a council meeting, and Kate reflexively counted each full row as she went up the three steps onto the dais. A quorum? There were something close to three hundred attendees - and the ‘public’ seats behind and in the galleries were completely full of those who lacked a vote but had the connections or other status to get in.
Horatio DuVall was standing at the front of the dais, calling for order and he turned slightly as the sisters stepped forward, Kate heading for the viceroy’s throne. If the speaker was having trouble then perhaps she could -
The Duke of Argyle had been at DuVall’s side, but as Kate approached, J Hammond Davion turned and to her astonishment, he took two steps and then stretched out one arm to block her path.
The move drew eyes and though the hall could not be called silent, it at least began to quiet, all eyes going to those behind the Speaker.
“Is there some reason,” Kate asked, projecting her voice to be heard above those still speaking from the floor, “That you are not welcoming me?”
Her uncle’s voice was statesmanlike, calm and almost regretful. Some instinct sent a shiver down her spine. “Your highness, you may not yet have heard that your brother has agreed an armistice with House Marik.”
“It is my understanding that it is an unpleasant necessity,” Kate said firmly. “And perhaps you will now answer my question, your grace.”
Hammond turned to Horatio DuVall and gestured invitingly to the pale count. There was a flicker of smugness barely audible in the duke’s voice. Beyond him, Kate caught a glimpse of James Sandoval, face rigid in fury. “For that, I believe it is for the Speaker to say.”
“Your Highness.” DuVall bowed slightly. “I regret to inform you that a motion has been placed before the High Council and by a clear majority… your brother Victor Steiner-Davion has been deposed.”
Kate’s first reaction was relief, closely followed by contempt for herself. She took a half-step forwards. “And thus I am no longer viceroy. I see.” Then she let her eyes sweep the room, looking from left to right across the crowd of nobles and elected officials who made up the High Council. Drunk upon their own power, she guessed. She could guess almost at a glance who had voted for and who against.
“My lords and ladies,” she said, forcing herself to remain calm. Or to pretend it. “Our nation stands at war. We cannot be without a leader. You have removed my brother, but I think you have not yet elected a new First Prince.” She doubted if any but a very few had even considered what the provisions were for that. The few who had called for this. “I lack a seat upon the High Council in my own right, but as the senior member of House Davion present, I nominate Marie St. Clair Hasek-Davion as regent until such time as a successor is decided.”
Her aunt was in the second rank, and if there was one thing that everyone knew about the eldest child of Andrew Davion it was that she had not the slightest desire for political power. There was a wave of applause for the motion and Kate pulled Yvonne back aside as their aunt made her reluctant way to the dais, Hammond Davion also forced to give way rather than seem ungracious.
“What do we do?” hissed her sister?
“Panic?” Kate suggested, almost giddy at the shock. “We may as well get that over with. It’ll be hours before we do anything useful.”