Two days after the secession of the Federation….

Baeus Thalo felt bad for the men and women running for their lives toward the untamed wastes of Kembror, phase cannon fire scouring the ground at their heels.

“Wing two, targets are heading into drift. Keep firing behind them until they’re beyond marker ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She didn’t feel bad enough to cease fire, mind you. She had a duty to her city and people. They weren’t coming back, not unless they were prepared to surrender.

“They’re beyond marker nine, ma’am. Still running. Ma’am, temp is 94 Vathmos. They aren’t going to survive long….”

“They can throw down their arms and surrender, Lil,” Thalo said. “If not, they can try to survive in drift. Don’t go wobbly on me now.”

“Yes, ma’am. Just….”

Baeus sighed. “Lil…I know all of them too. We can’t….”

“No, ma’am,” Lil Ikno said. “We can’t. Continuing fire.”

Kembror orbited a brown dwarf star, as many planets do. The star was about as hot as a very warm summer day on Archavia, and if that was all there was to the system, Kembror would have been a large block of ice.

But the brown dwarf that Kembror orbited itself was in orbit around a warm yellow star, with a semimajor axis that would put it right in the habitable zone…if it wasn’t wildly elliptical.

Alas, the orbit of the brown dwarf was very elliptical, and while two-thirds of the three-Archavian-month-long year (or 15-Earth-month-long year, if that’s more familiar) was relatively temperate, the remaining third was split roughly evenly between hellaciously hot and bitterly cold.

They were just a couple weeks past periastron, and the drift area – so named because sandstorms drifted across it in summer, and snowstorms in winter – was an inferno. It was so hot that the dry lakes were literally boiling away, as were the few natural springs. If they were lucky, those fleeing could survive in drift for maybe a week or two, assuming they found a spring and some shelter. Assuming they could dig out some sand worms for sustenance. Assuming their coldsuits didn’t give out immediately, and that they had their emergency urine filtration carafes.

Life on Kembror was hard, though the harsh land yielded animals, minerals, and vegetables that were remarkable, rare, and lucrative. No other world with so variable a climate had been colonized, not to this degree. It took a hardy soul to live there, but those that did loved it ferociously.

Which is why the men and women were presently fleeing. When you love something, you defend it, even against your friends and family. And make no mistake – they were friends, or family, or both. Kembror was too small a place. You could always find a link a few generations back (except for the few newbs who wandered in and stayed – but then, they almost always stayed because they married a local, and they were family by marriage.)

“Past Marker Ten, ma’am.”

“Cease fire. And open a comm channel in the clear. Jolu, this is Chairwoman Thalo. We’re drawing a line at Marker Ten. If you come over it, we will fire. We say again, you may come back if you lay down your weapons, and agree to home detention for the duration of this emergency. We do not want to kill anyone else, and we know you don’t either.”

“Stow it, Aunt Baeus,” the man barked. “You’re committing treason, that’s what you’re doing.”

“Treason? Is that what you call it? Jolu, you took an oath, I know that. But the oath wasn’t to the Federation. It was to the Empire. Cesil is a traitor and a thug, and look what he’s done. Come back. Please.”

“Jota Cesil is Poron of the New Empire. And Kembror is part of it.” Jolu said. “You will have to kill me to break from the Federation.”

“And you will have to kill me to break from the Empire, Jolu,” Baeus said, sorrowfully. “And if you should have the chance…you will feel as good about it as I do now.”

There was a long silence.

“Aunt Baeus, I can’t surrender. But tell mom…and mostly, tell Lil….”

“She knows you love her, and you know she loves you. But Acting Decanus Ikno has her duty. And I have mine. And you have yours. We will fire if you come past Marker Ten…unless you surrender.”

“I understand,” said Jolu Ikno, formerly the commander of the Kembror Peacekeepers, now the commander of the Black Block Irregulars of Kembror. “Goodbye, Chairwoman Thalo.”

“Goodbye, Opito Ikno.”

She felt the eyes of the council upon her as the line was closed. She felt awful, and knew she would only feel worse as the days wore on. But she had sworn an oath, and she had shown as much mercy as she could.

“Lil, set up a patrol, rotating every four hours. Mr. Bryal, signal that we are sealing up the city. And Gerol, send a signal through to the Empire. The Colonial Council of Kembror has successfully expelled the Black Block from its city center. We reject the actions of Jota Cesil as illegal and treasonous. We request the Empire’s assistance in liberating Federation Province.”

The two-tone alarm sounded throughout the city, as the environmental controls switched on, and the great vents and gates, which had been opened during the conflict, were slowly shuttered. They would be safe from the heat in here. Whether they would remain safe…well, she doubted they would be for long.

* * *

The queue had formed at the northern Krogh Fazala Federation Bank branch quite early in the morning, and stretched most of the block. This was unusual; it was rare for anyone to wander into a bank branch, honestly. The monetary system of the Empire was so automated at this point that bank visits usually involved loans or opening an account (and both of those could usually be done remotely). Very occasionally, someone was looking to get physical money for some reason – usually to teach their kids how money worked. But frankly, only about a fifth of businesses even handled actual currency these days, and most of them strongly encouraged customers to do simple credit transfers. Even illicit transactions were usually done with encoded pads that linked blind accounts. Well over 99 percent of all transactions in the Empire were done electronically, and the system had functioned that way for a good eight hundred years.

So when all accounts operated by Federation banks had suddenly been locked by the order of the Empire, it had caused all commerce in the Federation to – well, “grind to a screeching halt” implies some sort of quick slowdown. It was more like commerce had crashed at terminal velocity into a carbon-nanofiber wall and exploded in a hail of shrapnel and blood.

“What do you think’s gonna happen?” a tall, red-haired woman asked.

“Dunno. Reckon they’ve gotta give us something. It’s our money,” a shorter, bald man replied.

An old man standing behind him laughed bitterly.

“What?” the bald man said.

“Sonny boy, they ain’t gotta do a frakkin’ thing.”

“Sure they do,” a woman said. “It’s our money.”

“An’ what’s money, then?” an older woman piped up, knowing exactly what the old man was on about.

“Well…it’s money,” the bald man said. “You know…you spend it.”

“Genius, this’n,” the old man. “Yeah, you spend it. But what is it?”

“It’s…um….”

“It’s not really anything,” a young woman said. “It only means something because we all agree it does. That’s what my economics professor said.”

“See? This’n has a functionin’ brain. Now, it ain’t really nothin’, o’course. Credits come from the Imperial Treasury, an’ they keep track to verify they ain’t some sort of computer ghost or nothin’. But they’re just numbers in the end. Numbers the Empire says are worth somethin’, and we all agree they’re worth somethin’ too.”

“Oh, hells,” the young woman gasped. “The Empire…the Empire controls the money….”

Her statement reverberated up and down the queue like a thunderclap. The old man shook his head. “Yup! It ain’t your money or my money. It’s the Empire’s money, and Jota Frakkin’ Cesil pulled us outa the Empire.”

“But…but it’s still worth something, right?” The bald man said, desperately. “I’ve got to pay my home loan!”

“Don’t worry, sonny boy,” the older woman said. “Your loan company don’t got no money either. We’re all broke.”

“Then why’d you come down here?” the bald man asked.

“Can’t speak for her,” the old man said, “but way I figured it, the riot that’s about to start’d be a good time to grab one of the bank’s vidscreens. Mine’s got a fault.”

“That’s funny!” the old woman said. “I was going to grab one of the lamps. This branch has some really nice lamps, I reckon if I can keep it from getting damaged too bad…..”

“Wait, wait, what riot?” the bald man said, mopping his brow.

“GIVE US OUR FRAKKING MONEY!” a man shouted, and picking up a trash bin, began to ram it against the door. That started the wave; soon a dozen people were pounding on the entrances, trying to break in and take…something. Anything.

“Kids these days,” the old man sighed, walking toward an alleyway. “No sense. You go through the back when the workers flee.”

“Like they’ve never seen a riot before,” the old woman sighed.

“I suppose it’s been what, fifty years since the last one,” the old man chuckled.

“Well, then,” the woman said, “I guess their parents didn’t raise ‘em right. You married, sir?”

“Naw, wife passed. You?”

The woman grinned. “Divorced ten years.”

The back door to the bank opened, and three terrified tellers and one terrified guard ran out. The old man caught the door before it shut.

“After you, dear.”

“Ain’t you a gentleman?” the old woman said with a smile. “I do hope you can help me carry the lamp back to my place.”

“Oh, I reckon that won’t be any trouble a’tall,” said the old man.

* * *

“The riot’s intensity is growing, Goveror Nolu.”

“I can see that, peacekeeper. They are not dispersing as ordered.”

“Correct,” said Peacekeeper-Praetor Elali Cich, shifting uncomfortably.

“We need to crack down harder. Tell your peacekeepers to use live fire.”

Cich shook his head. “Governor…you can’t…those people are scared. They don’t have money. Some of them are running out of food. The stores don’t know whether to give away their stock or hoard it for their employees. Walak tells us they’ll get some monetary system up and running, but it’s been three days, and it doesn’t’….”

“Careful, Peacekeeper. You aren’t disloyal, are you?”

Cich looked evenly at Nolu. Perenjarm Nolu was a Blocker through and through, and a firm believer in Cesil. And he was determined to see this through.

Cich chose his words with deliberation. “Governor Nolu, I simply mean that the people need reassurance. If we could set up food distribution stations. Give them some sort of temporary credit…they just need to know their kids will have food tomorrow.”

“I gave you an order, Peacekeeper-Praetor. Carry it through.”

“Those are your orders. I acknowledge them, Governor,” Cich said.

Live-fire against unarmed civilians.

He had no choice.

“Ymalja, Brei, this is Cich,” he said into his commlink. “The Governor has directed me to order a live-fire attack against unarmed civilians.”

Cich drew his weapon before the Governor had time to react.

“I am hereby terminating the administration of Governor Nolu, and placing this planet under martial law,” Cich said. “I order you all to withdraw to your bases.”

The two councilmembers in the room gasped, but they did not move. They could read Cich’s face.

This was no bluff.

One of them, a young member named Xetar Vjodal, was surprised to hear herself ask, “Do you have the support of the peacekeepers?”

“I do, Ms. Vjodal. We’ve seen this coming. Not saying everyone will fall in line, but the leadership is firm.”

Keeping his blaster aimed, and without looking down, Cich turned his commlink to speaker mode.

“Brei, this is Four Squad, we are on our way back. Awaiting your orders, sir.”

“Chiso, Two Squad. We hear and are backing off. And sir…if it all goes bad…I’d rather hang with you than keep following Cesil to our doom.”

“Rional, Eight Squad. We’ve got six Blockers among us who tried to turn their weapons, but we’ve shut ‘em down. Two dead on our side, five of the six of them are down. Frakking New Empire.”

“Posum, Five Squad. I hear you, Rional. I took an oath to the Emperor. For Tiernan the Fourth, long may he reign!”

“Alysu….”

Cich turned off the speaker. “You are a traitor, Governor Nolu. You have violated your oath to defend the Empire. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Frak you. The Empire. What the frak good is the Empire? A bunch of sissy nincompoops, human-loving, Ler-frakking….”

Those were Nolu’s last words. Cich had no interest in listening any further. “I am assuming executive authority as a loyal officer to Emperor Tiernan ColVanos the Fourth. I will serve only until the Federation has been liberated by the Empire, and not a day longer. If the actions I’m taking today are judged criminal by them, then I will accept whatever fate may come. But I will not violate my oath for one moment more. Ms. Vjodal, Mr. Doth, I do not intend to kill you,” Cich said, “but I will not allow you to interfere.”

Vjodal looked at Doth. Doth was a conservative, and he looked torn between his belief in the law and his relief that someone had done something to relieve him of the burden of responsibility.

Vjodal herself had always been Titan Party, because that’s what her family had always been. She didn’t believe all of it, but she believed enough that her first instinct was to fight back…or try play it out so that she could.

But Vjodal had heard the late Gov. Nolu give an order to kill unarmed civilians. And she had no doubt that on Senedj XXII, right now, Poron Cesil was giving the same orders.

Those that do not live in an orderly fashion do not deserve respect from those who preserve order. That was one of the principles of the Titan Party, a belief that order was necessary, and that the people had an obligation to obey their rulers – when the rulers were Titan Party faithful, anyhow.

And this is what it had brought them. Not order – chaos. Destruction. Fear. Death.

“I will support you in this effort, Governor-Praetor Cich,” Vjodal said. “I took an oath to the Emperor, like you. The path Cesil is taking us down…it is madness. I do not expect you to believe me easily, but I will promise you, I will do what I can.”

“Call the council together,” Cich said. “We want the riots to end, we want peace. That means dismantling the Block, you know.”

Vjodal nodded. “You suggested distributing food. Cesil has said we shouldn’t…that we should wait for the new monetary system. But…we have emergency rations. If your peacekeepers would distribute them…it’s enough for a week. Enough that people will at least know we’re doing something.”

Cich smiled. “Ms. Vjodal, it is my hope that my time as a military dictator is short-lived. It is also my hope that when this is done…people will understand who the true patriots were.”

Vjodal stood up, and put out her hand. She shook Cich’s wrist. “I can recognize a true-blue son of the Empire when I see him. I will have staff dispose of the body,” she said, “and then we can get to work.”

* * *

Jota Cesil stubbed out his blunt, and downed his glass of kapskrasi. “Why the frak isn’t Nolu answering?” he growled.

“Our Guide…Governor Nolu has been killed,” said a young officer who had just entered the room. “The head of the peacekeepers on Diona has declared himself ruler of the planet, and declared his loyalty to….”

“To the frakking bhatwa-loving felgercarber who sits on the throne. Frak!” Cesil said, slamming down his glass. “When did this happen?”

“A few hours ago. Opsistor reports….”

“Opsistor! Why the frak are you listening to those traitors! I should execute you….”

“Your Excellency…it was on my order,” Scylane Rimosi said. “Intelligence-gathering. They are foolish enough to report what’s happening, we should take advantage of it.”

“Hmm. All right,” Cesil said, pouring another glass. “That makes sense. I apologize, young man. Opito…Vithli, is it?”

“Yes, Our Guide,” the man said, clicking his heels together and saluting.

“But why are they even on the net? I ordered them banned.”

“It’s a cyberattack. Probably by the Empire,” Scylane said. “They keep changing redirects to allow it through. But don’t worry. Everyone knows they’re just Imperial propaganda. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good.”

“Nothing to worry about! We lost Kembror already,” Jori Rimosi said. “And now Diona? And before the Empire even attacked?”

“We haven’t lost Diona, mother,” Scylane said. “We have the Block fighting back. The rebels hold Anola, and its outskirts, but the countryside is still ours.”

“And we have lost traitors. Dead weight,” Cesil said, taking a drink. “If Diona is loyal, they will oust this pretender and restore order. As will Kembror.”

“Do we know when the monetary system will be online?” Jori asked.

“It’s going slowly. We’re having difficulty reconstructing accounts…there’s been a cyberattack on our banking system, it is making it difficult to determine how many New Imperial Units to give them….” Scylane said.

“People are panicking! Jota, you have to….”

“I have to do nothing,” Cesil said. “You are only here out of respect to your son, Ms. Rimosi. You have no official role in this government. Scylane, pally, we need to move on this, though.”

“I am considering simply giving all households one thousand NIUs to start,” Scylane said. “To allow them to conduct business…during the transition.”

“See? This is why I trust you. Tell the Lady Director of the Treasury to make it so. And order all businesses to accept them as they would have accepted Imperial Credits. And schedule me for an address! I want to tell everyone the good news myself.”

“Yes, Our Guide,” Scylane said. “Your will be done.”