Smoking rubble filled most of the street, and Laurent was finding it hard to focus. Another series of concussion missiles rocked the building to his right and sent it tumbling down, but he ignored the destruction and the pain his arm to pivot right—into shelter. Several of the Royal Guards were pressed against the wall, there black plasteel armour glistening in pristine condition despite the fact that they were engaged in combat.

“Sir, we’ve lost the corridor, his men will be climbing up the street any moment, and we don’t have the firepower to repulse there rockets or the tank.”

“We hold!” Laurent screamed, his blaster levelled at the officer whom had dared speak, “we hold or so help me god I will cut out your tongue. Dromwell will not win this war do you hear me! DO YOU HEAR ME!”

Laurent woke with a start, sitting upright so fast that the sheets flailed downward and exposed his naked upper body. His fingers caressed the notches and marks on his chest from where he had taken so much damage during that fight. Kol Huro still echoed in his mind. The inhabitants had risen up against the dictator at the behest of him and his Royal Guards. Yet Dromwell had done everything in his power to secure Kol Huro as his industrial capital for a possible campaign against the fatherland—something Laurent would not allow.

Now again Dromwell had disappeared, and Lauren still woke at night with the terrors of what had happened at Kol Huro. The Sovereignty had secured a planet in the Huro System, but the cost had been great. The inhabitants loved the reforms that had been brought, and the general prosperity that came from being part of the sovereignty, but still a part of Laurent’s humanity reflected on the death, destruction, and mayhem he had caused.

A crisp knock on the door distracted him and he raised his head to examine the pure oaken doors. They were ornately designed, with flowing leaves and flowers emblazoned with gold. It was the height of fine Norati architecture and the Norati love for wood.

“Come,” he barked, the woman beside him stirring in her slumber from the severity of his voice. He gripped the sheet tightly and yanked it away from her body, exposing the elegant pale complexion of one of the Dandalas girls. Unlike Norati girls, the Dandalas women were pale and beautiful; most Norati women were olive skinned, or had big noses. Grimacing as he reflected on how ugly his sister was, the Imperator gave the woman a rough shove—sending her over the edge of the bed and sprawled on the floor naked. She yelped, clearly surprised at having been tossed from bed. More to her surprise was the three men that entered the room at that moment, all delegates from the House of Lords.
“Fetch me a cup of tea,” he commanded of the woman then ignored her completely to speak with the men. She was caught by surprise, her eyes wide and her mouth agape as if she were going to say something in defiance of the King; but then who would do that? Clamping her teeth together she grumbled and moved for her clothing, only to be stopped by His Majesty

“Now.” Silence filled the room. She glanced nervously at the men, then at her clothing, before concealing her womanly parts and storming from the room to fetch him his tea. “Speak,” he commanded of the men, adjusting the bed sheet around his body as he hoisted his feet over the edge of the bed.

“The Nebulon is working now, though the shield generator continues to give us problems. Most of the repairs have been completed, but Cormick says he needs more time to finish the shield generator.”

“I’ve given him enough time already and I do not intend to give him more. Inform the good Mr. Cormick that if the shields are not running by 1400 this afternoon I intend to have him shot and fed to my pet Rancor. See to it he has proper incentive too—an additional 20,000 credits should he manage to successfully complete the project. Oh, and bring his wife to me, I wish to have lunch with her.” The Lords chortled, knowing full well she was the meal for his voracious appetite for women. “Next?”

“Ord Torrenze relations have fully disintegrated, we don’t stand a chance of regaining them anymore.”

“Is that so? Has Lord Blackworth brought the fact that we have a new arsenal of naval superiority to the forefront of the deliberations?” He slipped from the bed as the tea was brought up, ignoring the glare that the woman offer him and pouring himself some of the black liquid. Ever delectable, he would let it cool before drinking any.

“He has, and Ord Torrenze has rebuked that it would be impossible for us to take the planet by naval force unless we wished to damage the precious minerals we wish to harvest. They don’t even balk at the prospect of invasion milord; and frankly we are looking weak in the eyes of the House.”

“TO HELL WITH THE HOUSE!” Laurent spat just before he sipped his tea. This unfortunately made the cup jitter and the liquid slosh about over his hand. Angrily, the Dictate set the cup down and used his bed sheet to clean himself. “One more word about what the House seems to think and I shall cut out your tongue is that understood? I am King, and I am ruler, and I know what is best for the people. Or do you seem to recall how foolish the house thought it was to take Kol Huro?” There was a general shuffle of feet as they stared at the ground. It had been Laurent that had brought the industrial and agricultural worlds to the Sovereignty, and it had been him that had saved his people.

“Begging your pardon sir, but what do you intend?”

“What I always intended. We are friends with everyone my good sir. As I seem to recall, the Remnant had an abundance of resources I’m sure they would be more than willing to share, and the Republic as well.”

“With respect Milord, but wouldn’t that mean we would be trading with both sides?”

“How right you are,” he quipped, having a chuckle as he sipped his tea, “perhaps I had best deliberate this on my own. In the meantime, have Natalia bring me a fresh pair of clothes; something black. Oh, and ready a transport, I shall want to travel to the Spirit of Fire and oversee the new shield generators.”

“Do you intend for us to summon Mr. Cormick’s wife here to the Morath Nebula?”

“No, I’ll dine with her tomorrow at the palace grounds.” Smiling, he waved his left hand dismissively to get rid of the pesky men. Then returned to his tea. “This is good tea woman... good tea.”