Chapter 24
A Surprise Guest
Miklagrad, Miklagrad Governate, Nikean Empire

The Palais-Royal of Aix-Clovin was certainly beautiful in its own way, echoing the inspiration—conscious or otherwise—of Versailles at the height of the Ancien Régime. Here in Miklagrad, it was the image of Tsarist Russia with elements of old Constantinople, a veneer of—what was for the locals at least—modern opulence overlaying the timeless beauty of classical construction. The throne room channeled the memory of the Hagia Sophia, capped with a large dome presumably symbolizing the vault of Heaven. The dais upon which the throne was set had to be at least ten meters high. It was not a bad way to represent the unapproachable imperial majesty of the Tsar. Everything was in white and gold, from the marble tiles at your feet to the arcades running left and right, the dome, the dais, the throne, and even the man who sat upon it.
Tsar Basil III wore a mantle of white fur—ermine, perhaps, or sable if they were properly imitating the Russians—over a white military uniform with gold piping, a broad golden sash and the obligatory large medals of this and that honor. The crown was trimmed with the same white fur as the mantle, but its most striking feature was the large sapphire fixed in the center. According to Oberst Konstantinides, Admiral Beck's liaison here, the gem was known as the Eye of St. Michael, after the patron saint of the Nikean Empire at large, the city of Miklagrad, and the imperial family.
Whereas the late Emperor Clovis was plump, painted and well-pampered, the Tsar was a lean man, bordering on gaunt, with deep-set eyes overshadowed by thick eyebrows. While it appeared to be the fashion among the nobility to sport large handlebar moustaches, the Tsar was completely clean-shaven, which only served to emphasize the aforementioned leanness. The heavy mantle could not hide the slouch of his shoulders or the way his head seemed to droop under the weight of the crown. It was a burden he would be relieved of soon.
The guards to Admiral Beck's left and right struck the floor with the butts of their spears as a signal he was to approach no further. While the Admiral tended to avoid any obvious gestures before such audiences, he found himself touching his throat. It was an old habit he thought he had grown out of, a way of reassuring himself the auto-interpreter was there and functioning.
Standing at the midpoint between the throne and the floor was the Ober-Kammerherr, who managed the Tsar's audiences and typically spoke on his behalf. Thanks to the work of Oberst Konstantinides, there would be no embarrassing displays like that of Clovinia's ill-fated Grand Chancellor. As Admiral Beck understood it, this audience was nothing more than a formality to seal an agreement that had already been reached.
The Ober-Kammerherr began by chanting, "In the name of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and Autocrat of All Nikea and of Sibelia, Emir of Wadi Sultan, and Defender of the One True Faith by the grace of the Most High, we greet you, Lord Admiral Nuresseif Beck."
Admiral Beck had to give all due credit to whoever designed the throne room. The acoustics were excellent. The Ober-Kammerherr did not have to raise his voice much above normal speaking volume to heard clearly. The Admiral adjusted his collar to turn down the amplification of his own voice to match.
"In the name of His Imperial Majesty, the Father of Humanity and Lord of Ten Thousand Worlds, I greet you," Admiral Beck replied. "Thanks to the efforts of my liaison here, I do not need to state my purpose, but so that all the forms are observed, I declare that this planet falls under the dominion of His Imperial Majesty the One True Emperor and in his stead and on his behalf, I have come to assert his claim and to extend the olive branch to all who will acknowledge His Imperial Majesty's claim and submit to his reign. To those who swear fealty and prove themselves leal and true, the Father of All Humanity welcomes you as sons and daughters, heirs to the fortunes of the universe. To all who are treacherous and false, rebels and criminals, I carry the flaming sword to purge such evil from the land.
"To ensure a smooth transition of power, we seek men of discerning among the current ruling powers to govern in His Imperial Majesty's name. You, Basil, should you prove discerning enough to swear your fealty without delay, shall be first among the people of this world. You will act as my lieutenant in the provisional authority, eligible to take up the mantle of planetary governor once His Imperial Majesty's dominion over this world is secure. You must renounce your title of Tsar and any pretensions of imperial authority in your own right, but you will be permitted to style yourself Rex Bellatoris within the confines of this world should you become planetary governor."
The Ober-Kammerherr replied, "Oberst Konstantinides has informed His Imperial Majesty and the lord-ministers of the Secret Council of your proposal and it is the will of His Imperial Majesty that—"
The Ober-Kammerherr was interrupted by the sound of the heavy main doors to the throne room creaking open. The doors were only supposed to be opened to admit the person seeking the audience, as a more discreet door to the side was used for their exit and the assorted courtiers and such permitted to observe had their own doors to the galleries overlooking the throne room. Admiral Beck had been informed of this detail of court protocol, so he turned to look, ignoring whatever slight might be observed from him turning his back to the Tsar.
Standing in the doorway was a familiar figure, her pink hair unmistakable even at a distance. Though it was a surprise to see her, it was not a surprise that no one could bar her way from entering the throne room unannounced and uninvited. Her apparent desertion had grieved him, but he held on to the hope that she remained loyal and that whatever reason prompted her to take the action she did was ultimately motivated by that loyalty. If she were to defect in earnest so soon after the incident with Oberleutnant Van Houten, his flag staff would start agitating for all the Hybrids to be purged before they could endanger the mission any further. The Admiral would not have wanted to give up his pets so easily, which might prompt his chief of staff to attempt to remove him from command.
Happily, with Major Yang having returned, it would appear that there would be no call for such a conflict. She would have to be punished for acting without orders, but depending on the case she made for herself and the results of her actions, the Admiral could use his authority to reduce that punishment significantly. It all depended on what Major Yang had to say for herself.
"Welcome back, my cherry blossom," the Admiral said. "I'm somewhat preoccupied at the moment, my dear, but I would very much like to hear where you've been and what you've been up to. Would you give me a moment to finish my business here?"
Of course the request of an officer carried all the weight of a direct order and up until now, Major Yang had always demonstrated herself to be most obedient, but this time she did not simply obey. Instead she proceeded to approach Admiral Beck. Although she had been his pet for quite some years and he was about as intimately acquainted with her as any two people could be, or perhaps because of this, the Admiral found himself distinctly ill at ease. It was a response of animal instinct upon encountering a potential predator. By her actions, Major Yang had become something unknown, and the unknown was dangerous.
The Admiral sincerely hoped that his unease did not show, but someone as perceptive as Major Yang could likely see through him as clearly as a glass panel.
"Major, halt," he ordered, knowing that by saying so he made himself all the more obvious.
Major Yang stopped. She was about ten paces away, having passed the Admiral's entourage, who had remained behind while he treated with the Tsar. Admiral Beck could see his bodyguards reach for their sidearms, having perceived the potential threat. As subtly as he could, the Admiral motioned for them to stand fast. If there was a threat from Major Yang, he did not want to provoke her. Surely he could talk her down.
"You have made some people very nervous, cherry blossom," the Admiral said. "I would prefer to talk to you later, in private, once my business here is done. Would you mind staying put for a moment while I wrap things up?"
"Does it not get tiring, Herr Admiral?" Major Yang asked. "Planet after planet, the same routine over and over again. All these self-styled kings and emperors that you have to humble to make good little Imperial citizens? Some are reasonable about it and some are not. Thousands and thousands, millions and millions have to die just so another world can be added to the Emperor's so-called ten thousand worlds. How many more times will you have to do it? The same speeches, the same threats, the same tragedies?"
This did not sound like Major Yang at all. She did not speak like this. She did not think like this. Admiral Beck was confident he knew her that well. Perhaps because Major Yang was acting so uncharacteristically, the Admiral finally noticed the shabbily dressed man who was following behind her.
"Who the hell are you?" the Admiral asked.
"I guess you could call me an observer," the man replied.
The auto-interpreter was doing its work, but the Admiral was able to catch enough of the man's actual speech to recognize it as the local French descendant they called Clovais. What was he doing here in Miklagrad, some three thousand kilometers from home?
Then the piece came together and the realization dawned on him.
"You're not Major Yang..."
"You are correct, Herr Admiral," 'Major Yang' said with a hint of a smile.
Her pink hair turned blue-black, her body taller and slimmer. Her face changed as well, of course, to a mostly familiar shape, albeit not quite as he remembered it.
Admiral Beck tried to smile, hiding his discomfiture, but he did not think he quite succeeded.
"Have you come back to me, kitten?" he asked.
"You tried to kill me, Herr Admiral," Oberleutnant Van Houten said. "You destroyed an entire city to do it, too."
"You know it was necessary after what you did," the Admiral replied. "And, look, here you are, proof that it wasn't enough."
By now his bodyguards had drawn their sidearms, but Oberleutnant Van Houten did not even pay them a passing glance over her shoulder. Admiral Beck held up his hand to prevent them from making the situation any worse.
"It will take more than a couple P737s to stop me," Oberleutnant Van Houten said.
"I'm hoping you would be willing to be reasonable," the Admiral said.
"I think we passed that point when you made a smoking crater a hundred kilometers wide in an effort to kill me."
"I'll purge the whole world if that's what it takes. Or... you can be reasonable."
Admiral Beck was wagering on Oberleutnant Van Houten's humanity, but that might be a losing prospect at this point. She knew that she was too dangerous to be left alive, so she might opt to bring as many down with her as possible, especially if she could force him to call for a purge while he was still on the surface.
"What's he saying?" the Clovingian man asked Oberleutnant Van Houten, as he did not have the benefit of an auto-interpreter.
Oberleutnant Van Houten responded in seemingly flawless Clovais, telling the man, "The Lord Admiral has threatened to burn this world if I don't surrender to him. What do you think, Marx?"
"I'd prefer an option that doesn't involve the world burning," the man—'Marx' apparently—replied.
"Even if that means my death?" Oberleutnant Van Houten asked. "My life in exchange for the lives of every man, woman and child on this planet... I suppose there's no comparing the two, is there?"
"If you can think of an alternative, I'm all ears."
Admiral Beck was growing annoyed that the conversation was proceeding without him. In fact, it felt as if he was not even there. Who was this man who could hold his pet in their own little world? What was this feeling? Jealousy? Impossible.
Oberleutnant Van Houten looked at him as if she knew and there was a faint, cruel smile that crossed her lips. He had never seen her make such a face before. It was at that moment that he felt an unmistakable sense of pressure from her. Had she always had this power or was it something that changed since she merged with the Core Unit?
"Are you feeling left out, Herr Admiral?" she asked. "I have a solution for that, and it might just be the third way my companion here is looking for."
In what seemed like single step, Oberleutnant Van Houten closed the distance between them. Even though there was a considerable risk of the rounds going through her and hitting Admiral Beck, his body guards opened fire, only for the shots to harmlessly smash against a barrier she raised around herself, the Admiral and her companion. She then seized the Admiral by the face and kissed him. She had never been one to initiate a kiss before and to be so forceful, especially under the circumstances, was surprising to say the least.
As their lips were locked together, the Admiral could feel his body warm from its core, radiating outward. Oberleutnant Van Houten began to glow with a blinding light. His own muffled screams were the last thing he heard.