“How’d you do it? Get the Federation to betray their allies?” I asked.
“We’ve been watching the Federation for some time, learning their culture. We knew we could make them an offer so profitable, they’d betray their own mothers and thank us for the opportunity. Convincing them to betray you was child’s play. It’s how we’ll destroy them when the time comes, offer half of them whatever they want to turn on the other half, then do the same to the survivors until we dispense with the pleasantries and conquer them outright.”
“Like you did with Yezhidia to destroy the League,” I commented. I heard the archduke stiffen behind me, and Zukov’s eyes flicked to him.
“No. To the Yezhidians’ credit, they came to us, asking for help defending themselves against one of their so-called protectors since the Commonwealth abandoned them to their fates,” Zukov drawled.
I hesitated before asking my next question, not certain if I wanted to know the answer, but something compelled me to ask, “Ankhelina, the Champion, said you told the Emperor I had died years ago.” Zukov waited for me to ask a question as I wracked my brains for the right words. In the end, I only needed one. “Why?”
Zukov shifted. “My spies brought me your government’s report of your death…”
“Cut the crap, Zukov. Your Commonwealth Basic is too good to mistake Missing in Action, presumed Dead, with Killed in Action,” I said, my voice hot.
Zukov settled back, grinning as if relieved of a great weight. “You were a distraction we could not allow. For the Empire to progress, we need a strong Emperor devoted to the Imperial good. You needed to be removed from the Emperor’s hopes for the greater good of the Empire.”
“But why the lie? Why not say I was married or transferred, or anything else?”
“I did not need you married or transferred away. I needed you dead. The Emperor was considering halting the offensive to search for you. I could not allow that. We could not afford to have her distracted by a foreign affair then, and we cannot now, not when we are so close to victory. Besides, I did not lie. I merely told the truth prematurely.” He glowered. “Considerably more prematurely than I’d have liked, but I am sure someone will help me fix that inconsistency. If you had died when you were supposed to, I may not have needed to depose the Emperor.”
I slapped the count to focus his attention. “Don’t toy with me. You admitted to setting off the Fall device long before you knew I still lived. You had this planned long before I entered the game. You’ve told me enough to have you executed for treason in any court on the Rim, so I’ll give you one last chance to save your life. Where is the Emperor?”
“I’ve told you nothing but hearsay,” Zukov replied. “No one will believe you unless you somehow manage to reinstall your Emperor on the throne. I won’t help make that possible.”
“You will if you want to save your miserable hide,” I said, my dirk back under his chin.
Zukov gulped, but his eyes were steady. “There are fates more humiliating than death.”
My gut told me to gamble, so I did. I stood, sheathing my dirk and making it look as though I was going to leave. “Fine. Then we’ll leave you to watch as we win. Come, Archduke, we can find the Emperor before these bumbling buffoons figure out which end of a lancer is dangerous.”
The archduke gave me a look which implied he questioned my sanity, but Zukov spoke behind me, laughter in his voice.
“You think you have that sort of time? You little fool. The only reason the former Emperor still lives is because we need her death to be public. Once we agree upon a story to legitimize our coup, your precious Astridur shall be taken from this place, portaled back to the capital, and her execution shall be broadcast to every world in our Empire and beyond.”
Archduke Darius stared at me, and I gave him a slight nod and smirk of success. I half turned to look back at the count.
“So she’s here, on this station,” I stated. Count Zukov’s sudden horrified expression told me I was right. “Thank you, Count. You’ve been most informative.”
“You’ll never get her alive. The dungeons are too well guarded,” Zukov protested.
“Even better. Now we know exactly where to look. You wouldn’t want to save us even more time and tell us her cell number and the combination?” Zukov’s face hardened, but he shut his mouth. I sighed theatrically. “Very well. Recently, you gave me some advice regarding treacherous enemies. Do you remember what you said?”
Zukov started to shake his head, but then his eyes widened as realization struck him. All mirth left my face, and I reached for my lancer.
The archduke clamped his hand around my wrist. “No, don’t shoot him!”
I tried to jerk out of Darius’s grip, but he held me firm. “If you expect me to spare this monster out of mercy, you have the wrong man.”
Darius looked at me with incomprehension, then drew his zeroblade. “Someone will hear a lancer bolt,” Darius clarified.
“Oh,” I replied, releasing my lancer to draw my own dirk. Zukov knew what was about to happen, and he tried to crawl away, but with his wrists and ankles bound behind him, he could do little more than squirm.
I grabbed the demon’s horn, wrenched his head upright, and drew my blade through his throat. It slid through flesh and bone with only a slight whisper of resistance, and the former count’s head came free in my hand. I turned it to look at me, but the life had already left the betrayer’s eyes.
I dropped the head on its body. “Did anyone hear us?”
“No alarms that I see,” Tredesceu replied.
“No one coming through the door,” Pavlov confirmed. “We’re clear.”
