Pirate Empress Snippet 2

So, I'm closing in on finishing act 2 of Jethro 6, I've got 3 chapters left to rough out. Not bad. I'll hopefully be able to finish the rough draft by next week sometime.

On to the snippet!

Still in chapter 1...

Countess Sabine Newberry watched the broadcast from near the newly self-crowned empress and nodded ever so slightly.

The countess was a vice admiral in the Horathian Admiralty; in fact charge of the feared Office of Naval Intelligence. She had spent decades in turf wars with the Palace Intelligence and the Secret Police.

Well, now her people were dismantling both and she was in charge. Firmly in charge. She intended to stay the boss for as long as Catherine allowed.

Not to mention taking them apart like chicken, she was also taking apart the Department of Purity and Enlightenment. That was something she was of 2 minds about. It made sense in a political way, an olive branch to the Feds, but now?

It didn't matter. Anyone who could have opposed Catherine was dead or gone. Most of those whom had been alive in the star system who could have opposed her had been her own family. Catherine had ruthlessly poisoned her own father and then ordered the deaths of her grandmother, siblings, and step mother. Only a few of their spouses had been left alive, mainly because she didn't want to antagonize the families they had come from.

Like the Rico family. Not that the Rico family didn't deserve a bit of a shake up and culling. In fact, none of the naval families had covered themselves in glory prosecuting the disastrous war with the Federation.

Her planet had spent centuries as the hub of an extensive pirate network, worming their tentacles across what was left of the galaxy after the disastrous Xeno war. They'd kept any other planet from becoming a seed to restore the Federation by their acts of piracy, gathering material for themselves while killing anyone in their way.

Along the way they had planned to come out on top, announcing their primacy in a new stage by declaring the Horathian Empire. It had taken centuries of scheming and planning to get to that point.

They had moved slowly at first, sending out spies to infiltrate and take control of their neighboring star systems. She wasn't countess of Garth for nothing after all. They had been working on building a war machine from their ill-gotten gains. The trouble was, rebuilding the Federation tech base was hard. The security lock outs had been formidable.

But they'd finally gotten the key to unlocking it all in the form of El Dorado, a salvaged battle moon. Everything they had needed was there to cement their leadership and domination.

Along the way the Ramichov family had come out on top. They had worked the political machine like experts, stirring up xenophobia for centuries and building a following until Piotr Ramichov had declared himself Emperor. From his seat of power, he'd lauded out titles to solidify his control, bribes really, she thought.

Task forces had been sent out to take control of the sector while pirate lords marshaled private armies to take over their new planets and lands. But that was where they'd run into trouble.

The first wave of task forces had been scratch built; they hadn't really put much effort into them since there was no opposition. But there had been. A federation sleeper in the form of Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons had been woken from his centuries slumber. He had rallied others to his side and through luck or skill, she wasn't really sure which at this point, he'd managed to break the task forces that had been coming his way.

He'd had time too. News hadn't reached Horath until years later. In that time, he'd had a few adventures while his followers had used the tech base he'd given them to rebuild. From there they'd gathered neighboring worlds and then built their own defenses and fleets, taking on and destroying one pirate task force after another.

She shook her head. She'd thought the Spirits of Space were a myth up until that point. Now she heard whispers that Murphy must have been involved. He must have orchestrated everything, getting them excited and at the cusp of victory snatched it from their hands. It was the only thing that made sense. She had to admit, the timing was highly suspicious.

Not that anyone could do anything about that now, she thought with a flicker of annoyance.

Oh, Piotr and some of the fools going in had a lot to do with the blame. Piotr had been an idiot. And they'd all sailed into the situation arrogant in their assumption of their primacy. They'd been fat dumb and happy, assuming that they were going to easily win and take their rightful place on the galactic stage finally.

Well, there was something to say about assume, she thought, lips quivering in a not quite smile. It definitely made an ass out of more than one person.

She glanced at Catherine. The empress was sharp; she looked good in her flag officer uniform, stern, authoritative, and imposing. She didn't have her father's slick charm and persona but that might be for the best. She didn't have the raw edges of ambition, just the determination to fix things. She looked like she knew what she was doing, and that was important. She had the backing of the admiralty and the military branches so there was that too.

The people in the street probably remembered her recent activities with the arena massacre. They would think favorably of Catherine despite her assassination of her father and family. After all, stuff like that was more common than anyone wanted to admit in the Empire. They were like baby sharks; it was an eat or get eaten sort of society.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Had Catherine set herself up for this position as far back as that? Possible, quite even probably. Her decisive leadership and compassion for the little man while the rest of her family took off and were evacuated had made her look good. It could have been a step in her long game. Quite probably it was, she thought with a slight nod of approval.

She was relieved that Catherine wasn't reacting out of fear or a desire to prove herself. She was keeping the bloodshed to a minimum, not fueling her paranoia or the paranoia of others along the way. It was just enough to let people know she meant business while cleaning house.

Her lips puckered in a slight smile. No doubt people not in the immediate line of fire were sighing in relief. Wary sighs no doubt, but sighs none the less.

Now they needed to deliver. They needed to get things sorted out, find a way to beat the Feds back and then go on from there.

Otherwise their days really were numbered.