The sound of a klaxon woke Jota Cesil from his sleep. He grunted, and pulled himself up onto the chair. He’d drunk a lot of kapskrasi. A lot. Been drinking a lot lately. To celebrate.

He winced at his hangover. “Who the frak authorized the emergency alert system?” he barked, looking at his pad. “Where’s Rimosi?”

He was alone at the moment, so he stood, pulled his pants up, grabbed his pad, and stormed out of his office. Outside, there were a dozen military officers, frantically shouting.

“You idiot, keep it down, you’ll wake…Our Poron! Hello!” a senior officer said, suddenly affixing a plastic smile.

“The frak is this. Did Rimosi order this?”

“No, no, he left for Diaca four hours ago. We’re not sure, it just started five minutes ago.”

“Well shut it the frak off. Fraking incompetent….”

“I greet my fellow Federationers,” the pad said, and all turned to it. Palsa Temis was sitting in a chair on a balcony overlooking Diona. He was very calm, all things considered, given the news he had to give them.

“For those of you who do not know me, my name is Palsa Temis. I am a member of the Federation Leadership Council for Nuvotuaut. Today, the Federation Leadership Council formally elected me to replace Jota Cesil, who has illegally been claiming to represent the government of the Federation in a bid to secede from the Empire itself. I stand before you, not as a guide, but as a servant-leader, who hopes to undo the damage caused by the criminals who have brought chaos and disorder to this province with their so-called New Empire.

“I had hoped to tell you of our plans going forward, our plans to bring this crisis to an end, arrest the villainous scum who have attempted to cleave us from our friends and neighbors in the Empire, and restore the rule of law in this province. However, a much more urgent issue has come to light. You see, former Poron Cesil is not merely a criminal, not merely a pretend leader of a made-up nation. Jota Cesil, Scylane Rimosi, and those who serve them have committed high treason against the Empire. Not by attempting secession, no – though that is enough. No, friends, as he was telling us of the wonder of the titan species, Jota Cesil was making a pact with the Insectoids, one put into effect thirty-six hours ago, when a hive ship attacked the Imperial colony at Tau Ceti.”

In Central Square in Walak, the protests and shouting and low-level, ongoing riot had paused, and all were glued to the broadcast. It had taken over every viewscreen in the square adjacent to the Poron’s Palace, and it had frozen the crowd in its place.

“This is a joke, right?” Terk Galy asked. He was part of the peacekeeping group controlling the square.

“Obviously,” Sebra Oiane, who was commanding the peacekeepers, said. But the images that popped up on the screen were, if fake, then remarkable in their detail and clarity. And they clearly showed the aftermath of a devastating battle.

“This is what we’ve been saying!” shouted a protester. “Cesil’s a traitor!”

There was a roar from the crowd, and Galy found himself nodding. This wasn’t Imperial propaganda. There was no way they’d show them the burned-out hulk of the Troji if they meant to frame Cesil. The attack would be cleaner, quicker, and leave the Empire far stronger than before. This…this had been a devastating attack.

“Gods, Sebra,” Terk said. “What…what if he’s right?”

“Can’t be,” Sebra said, before whispering to herself, “it just can’t.”

“The Insectoid assault was but the start of an action that was to continue onward to Earth, and then the Empire as a whole. Fortunately, for all of us, the attack was stopped by Navarchos Bass, who personally took command of the Gyfjon and led a suicide attack on the hive ship. He and Dr. Niall Freeman, a human scientist, detonated the Gyfjon’s warp core, destroying the hive ship.”

On Kembor, they watched, aghast.

“That’d have to be a one-in-a-million shot,” Jolu said. “Ship that big – even a core breach would be nothing.”

He had been on his way back to his apartment to start serving house arrest when the civil alert system went off; he had offered to help, as he’d started as a comms tech. Given the annoying drone of the alert warning, they’d given him a shot – under close supervision. Now, however, he was doing what everyone else was doing – watching the show.

“They must’ve hit it just right,” Lil said.

“Yeah,” Jolu said. “That scientist – he must’ve identified a weak spot. That’s probably why he was on board, helping guide the Navarchos to it.”

“You think the human was involved?” Baeus Thalo asked. “Really? A pet?”

“He’s the physicist, the one at Tannhauser Gate, right?” Lil asked.

“Think so,” Jolu said. “And I was telling Lil…I think we’ve been pretty stupid, Aunt Baeus, and not just me. Glad the Navarchos wasn’t. Emperor’s beard, bad enough I had to follow a gorram traitor, but one dealing with the frakking bugs…I hope they string the frakker up by his balls.”

“It’s possible that they’re pushing this a bit, to discredit Cesil,” said one of the councilmembers – she was no Blocker, but the idea of Cesil working with the Insectoids was still bizarre. But the next images that appeared on the screen were damning in the extreme.

“These are records from the Federation Archives,” Temis said. “They are notes taken by Jota Cesil, and saved in his personal file. Details of meetings held by Scylane Rimosi with Insectoid agents. This one, in particular, shows that the rebel scum were aware of the date that the attack was to commence – down to a four-hour window.”

On the bridge of the Gleebo, a man’s rage exploded.

“Idiot!” Rimosi barked, drawing his weapon. “Why the frak would you write that down?” he asked. He paused to shoot the pilot, who had been staring at him accusingly. Wouldn’t have been his first choice, but then, the pilot was a young, eager fool, who was about to do something stupid, like turn the ship toward the Imperial border. “All right, General Lenen, anyone else aboard who would cause problems?”

“No, sir, of course not,” she said. Granted, she herself was appalled, and she was looking forward to getting off at the next port. But she was smart enough to let Rimosi run for now; he was desperate, and he had just been caught in a capital offense. He had nothing to lose. She did.

“Good,” he said. He altered his heading. No sense going to Diaca. Not anymore.

“Let me be clear,” Palsa Temis said. “The leadership of the Federation, in an attempt to help themselves secede from the Empire, worked with the Insectoids to coordinate their attacks. Their hope was simple – that with the Empire facing an attack by an overwhelming Insectoid force that they would have no choice but to abandon us to the thugs and criminals who claim to guide us. They did not, however, count on a human and a Titan working together to dispatch the threat. And while this has been a horrible day for this Empire – tens of thousands were killed in the fighting, including, I am sorry to say, Prince Antero himself – this day has also seen a military victory that defied the goal of the traitors and the bugs.”

In the Walak Imperial Records Branch, like most everywhere else in the Federation and Empire, there was numb silence. A male clerk at the end of the line shook his head.

“The prince. Oh, Gods.”

Another clerk clasped her hand over her mouth. “Poron Cesil…he killed the Prince by his actions.”

“Cesil’s a traitor! Kill the bastard!” one man said.

“Maybe the Empire will take us back,” a woman said. “That’s what Temis is saying, right? That we could just be a province?”

“What about the humans?” the male clerk asked. “They’ll make us treat them….”

“The humans didn’t side with the frakking bugs!” the woman shouted. “The Dunnermac, the Avartle, the Ler – they may not be us, but who do you want to be with, them or the bugs?”

“Frak the bugs!” another man shouted. “And frak Cesil!”

The male clerk nodded. “Yeah. Frak the bugs. Humans are cute, at least, right?”

The director stood up from her chair, and walked over to the crisp Black Block banner that had been shipped to the site by the “New Empire,” one of the few things they’d succeeded at doing. It was hanging where a faded Imperial banner once had hung.

She spat on it, and grabbing it with all her strength, ripped it from its mooring.

“We don’t follow gorram traitors!” she shouted, and the clerks and the few citizens waiting in the queue shouted their agreement. “Long live Emperor Tiernan!”

“I am hereby ordering the arrest of Jota Cesil and Scylane Rimosi on charges of treason, and join the Imperators Corps in authorizing all means to bring them in. Any citizen of the Federation is authorized by the law to use any level of force necessary to bring them to justice.”

Temis smiled gently at the woman currently keeping communications open. It had been Xele’s idea to use the civil alert system, just like the saboteurs had on Earth. And Palsa knew that Xele had no love lost for her biological father. Still, he saw just the flicker of doubt on her face as she recognized that she had consigned him to death. But he also saw, in the next moment, her recognition that she had done nothing; he had chosen his route, and flown his ship.

She was a tough one. Jota should be proud. That he wasn’t…well, add it to the list of Jota Cesil’s personal failings.

He didn’t know how this would play out in the rest of the Federation. He could guess, and hope, but he couldn’t know for sure. But he hoped enough people would listen that it would allow them to retake their home. Too much blood had been shed, too many people were orphaned and widowed. Too many parents had lost children.

“Those who continue to aid them are also guilty of treason, and will be held accountable. But I know that many who have aided them up until now did so, not out of malice or evil, but because they truly believed that they were serving the will of the government, because the Guide of the Federation had guided them wrong. And so I say to you all that if you will recognize civil authority, we will work with you, to allow you a path forward in life and in the Federation. Those who cease protection of Cesil and Rimosi, those who join with us to bring them and their conspirators to justice, you will not be punished. You will be rewarded.

“My goal, my fellow Federationers, is simply to arrest the traitors and to begin the process of rebuilding from their attack on this province. Together, we will help to right the wrongs that have been done in all our names. Together, we will rebuild Federation Province as what it should be – a loyal province of the Empire, one with traditions we respect, and one with respect for the laws which bind this Empire. May fate shine on the Emperor.”

In a basement in Krogh Fazala, Karon Dicy grunted. “And there it is. You see? It’s a scam! The Poron would never side with the bugs. It’s meant to confuse and demoralize, so they can give the fish and the furballs and the bhatwas our jobs and our hard-earend money.”

A few of the Blockers in the room nodded in agreement.

“What have we heard from Walak?” Karon’s Aunt Jothe asked, looking over the group.

“Watchleader Jothe,” a young woman said, “we have multiple communications. Some say to go to ground. Some…some are saying we should arrest the Poron.”

“Stupid!” Kris Dicy said, pounding his fist. “Arrest the Poron? Are they idiots?”

“It is compelling….” said a young teenage boy, but Karon backhanded him before he could finish.

“WE ARE THE BLOCK!” he roared. “One People! One Guide! One Nation! If Poron Cesil was trying to double-cross the bugs and the Empire, we support him! He is wise! He is right!”

“Of course…I’m sorry, dad.”

“It’s okay, Jota,” Karon said, offering his hand. “You are young, and they are evil. They mean to confuse us. To set us against each other, and our Guide.”

“And it will work,” Jothe said. “At least for a time. Kris, gather as much food from t’Haba Speltay as you can and bring it to the safehouse. We will meet you there in two hours. We will leave here in twos and threes, and quickly. We must prepare for a siege, at least until we hear from Walak that the weak and unpure among our ranks have been purged.”

“Yes, Watchleader Jothe,” Kris said.

“And if we find them in our own ranks?” Karon asked.

“Your former cousin and I have not spoken in fourteen years, Karon,” Jothe said. “Those who would turn against the Federation and the Block are not our family.”

“Watchleader, you are wise,” Karon said. He nodded to his top lieutenant. “Kill anyone who wavers. This is not a time for weakness.”

“Yes, Karon,” the man said. “Long live Poron Cesil, and the New Empire.”

“Long live the pure Titan race,” Karon replied.

* * *

In the palace in Walak, It took Jota Cesil a good long moment to recover.

Of the twelve people who had been in the room when he walked in, seven were dead. Two Blockers, young and full of fire, were holding weapons, having killed those who had turned on the Poron.

“We have to get you out of here,” one of them said. “Do we have….”

“My shuttle’s downstairs. Frak, Walak Central Square…peacekeeper chatter’s all over the map.”

“I will call in that you were wounded, Poron,” said a woman, straightening her coat, “but escaped. I’ll say you took your personal shuttle. Skava, program it on an automatic course, straight up, and launch it.”

“I don’t think Walak’s safe,” one of the Blockers said.

“I don’t think this palace is safe,” the woman said. “Go! Now!”

“This way, Poron,” a Blocker said. “Krogh Fazala?”

“Yeah, probably,” the other said, pushing the Poron ahead of him.

“Could really use a drink,” Cesil muttered. “Could really use a drink.”