ICHaFBI 3

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=I, Corvus; How a Fool became Imperator of the O'Reillys - Chapter III -=
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----<Character & Faction Directory of I, Corvus>----
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===Remember Whom you Serve===
The Colosseum
Nova Roma, Gaul Continent
Alphard, Latium District
Marian Hegemony
11th April, 3030
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The Imperator stood in the editor’s both, arms outstretched while the roar of the amphitheatre died down. He held his arms and waited for a long moment past the point where all of his subjects had quieted before finally speaking.
 
“Friends! Countrymen! Patricians and Plebeians! In honour of one hundred and ten years of our glorious state, and as prayer for a thousand and ten more, I gift you with a glorious spectacle of blood and endo-steel! Just as you honour the Hegemony with your devotion and hard work, so does the hegemony honour you! Let the games begin!” The plebeians, of course, were all watching from home save for a select few especially pretty ones who acted as props of a sort. The honour of enjoying the games live was otherwise exclusively reserved for the better class.
 
He took his seat and nodded to the professional orator who would serve in his place as editor of the games. He twirled his hand and the glass over the Editor’s box darkened on the inside, projecting a fake 3D image of the Imperial family to any spectators who looked away. He wished Livia and Sean could sit as still as their imagined selves, but Sean was already at the edge of the box, pushing Livia away while she screeched and slapped his arm. And Siobhan, at least she was present in the projection, which was more than she was at home. Watching reruns of the feed from the games was the only way he ever saw a smile on her face these days.
 
He looked over to his aid, “They’ve already started to gather outside haven’t they?”
 
Harcourt Kelly nodded, “The first ones were here before you were, Imperator.”
 
“Of course they were. Send the first one in.”
 
“Aren’t you going to watch even the first fight?”
 
“You know I hate this shit, Kelly. It’s the biggest waste of men and material in the entire galaxy. You remember the main event last month? Imagine how much damage Bellator Bishop would have done on the battlefield. Jesus Christ Harcourt, you put him in a Marauder he could have annihilated an entire company on his own. So what do we do? We have him fight here, for no good reason, against someone equally valuable, and we’re scraping him out a cockpit. Let alone the damage to the machines. We’re going to waste, what, a battalion's worth of equipment over the next week of games? With how often we do this, goddamn, we could be halfway to Terra by tomorrow if we could save ourselves from ourselves!”
 
Harcourt glanced at the children, still enthralled with the show, and put his hand on Marius’, “Then why do you even do this?”
 
Marius pulled his hand away and gestured to the crowd. “Because three generations of bloodthirsty O”Reillys have done this. If I break faith with them, I mean, even the gladiators would hate me! And... you’re just winding me up on purpose huh? Goddamn it, Harcourt, if it was anyone but you, I’d have sent you to the arena by now..”
 
Harcourt grinned, “Not the Morituri? Aw, you do care. All right, so first supplicant then?”
 
“Give me a minute, and have someone run and get us some fruit and nuts. Something sweeter for the kids too, and some stuffed dormice.”
 
Harcourt left and a body slave rushed forward to make sure every hair and crease on the Imperator’s person was in place and Marius took a moment to collect himself. Soon the slave bowed and stepped back and Marius snapped his fingers. A fat man in senatorial robes entered with Harcourt, flanked by two Praetorian Guards.
 
Harcourt quickly stepped to the side and pressed a button on his tablet. The communications unit in Marius’ chest picked up the signal and relayed it to the sensory implants in his eye. Relics of their days together in the Ordo Vigilis before his coronation. They still served their purposes. Red text was projected onto Marius’ eye by the implant.
 
Senator Casimir Zielinski, senatorial rank, influential on Pompey, major shareholder in entertainment industry. Eldest daughter Lena rising star Legio IV, candidate for promotion to Legate. Second daughter Hanna, recently failed out of Collegium Bellorum Imperial. Likely here for a favour for her.
 
The senator bowed, “My Imperator, it is an honour to be in your presence.”
 
Marius stepped forward and helped the man rise. “Nonsense Casimir, we’re old friends, we can speak likewise here. Please, sit with me and tell me what I can do for you. Tell me, how are your children? I’ve heard great things about Lena, she’s the talk of Legio IV!” In truth, he had never heard of her, and he was only vaguely aware that Casimir existed.
 
“That’s kind of you to say Imperator! She is the pride of our family. And family, you see, is the reason I’ve come. Our youngest, you remember Hanna?” Marius nodded as if he did. “You see, she’s been having some trouble at school. You see, she’s a sensitive girl, and the professors at the Collegium just don’t understand her, they’ve been so unfair....” Marius tuned out and drifted an eye past him, towards Harcourt.
 
She failed half of her classes for non-attendance and drunkenness.
 
Marius nodded sympathetically to both of them. Harcourt nodded back and continued typing on his tablet.
 
He owns half of this arena, could be a big discount on future games.
 
Marius placed a hand on the senator’s shoulder, “Ah, my dear Casimir, I think I understand. You’re right, the Collegium can be so unfair to outstanding young women like Hanna. She’s still on Alphard isn’t she? Good. Perhaps a private tutor would be more understanding. I’ll arrange for one of my more experienced Praetorians to personally tutor her in one of my personal BattleMechs.”
 
Casimir sputtered and bowed in thanks before Harcourt ushered him out of the door.
 
“Give her to Marcus. Make her work for it.. I can’t stand people who throw away the good fortune of a senatorial family. Who’s next?”
 
“You’ll like this one even more. They booked this meeting months ago. Solaris Roadshow, they want to take the Hegemony games across the Inner Sphere.”
 
Marius ran his hands through his hair, causing the body slave to spring back into action. Marius waved him off. “So I get to put our shame on display for the whole galaxy to see?”
 
“Yes! For a big cut of the pay per view money, plus think of all the tourists we’ll draw. Imagine if we could become the second Solaris. Richard Cox.”
 
“All right, fine, if we have to waste men and mechs at least we can earn enough c-bills to hire mercenaries to replace them. Bring them in.”
 
Marius hated the man the moment he walked through the door. He was covered in gaudy jewelry, wore sunglasses indoors, and had a suit that screamed expensive that somehow managed also not to fit.
 
“Mr. Cox, welcome to Pompey—”
 
“Eh, just call me Dick!”
 
Sean snorted and turned around “Oh my God! Your name is Dick Cox?”
 
“Hey! Ya! This kid gets it! Founder, CEO, and full-time Director for Richard Pictures Unlimited! The public can’t get enough of my Dick Pics!” He chuckled and winked at Sean, and Sean laughed back.
 
Marius shot a piercing glance at Harcourt. Harcourt shrugged and typed back. He gets great ratings with males 15-24, that’s where the big money is.
 
“Dick, I hear you have a proposal for me.”
 
“Your lordship, I’ve been promoting fights on Solaris VII for twenty years and it’s been great I tell ya, but it’s all been done! The fights are too clean, the public, they’ve seen all the same arenas for hundreds of goddamn years! The people want something new, and you, you’re new! See, as a man who holds games as spectacular as these ones, I know you know that the Periphery loves it’s share of organized combat entertainment. And I know you know that the fights out on the Periphery have their own legend, their own stories, stories like the Inners have never heard before. Every knows the story of the scrappy peasant farmer who beats the richkid Lyran noble! But who knows the stories of the sort of folk who live on the edge of annihilation fighting pirate armies, and giant dinosaur monsters and all the sort of crap you people deal with. I’m sure I could sit down with your son here and he could tell me the most interesting stories of every man and woman on the sand down there.
 
“I’m a storyteller, and I want to tell your story to the whole Inner Sphere, and with my name and my skills, we can make a whole lotta money. But you know, there’s a lot of competitors out there, I mean Hardcore, Lothario, Herotitus, they’ve got their own circuits, and they’re good an all, but you… Well, most people couldn’t point you out on a map, but me, I know a rising contender when I see one! I know you’re gonna be big, and when you do, I want you Richard Pictures to come with you everywhere you go.
 
“The Solaris Roadshow is gonna take the best of Solaris, and bring it here. And we’re gonna make your people the stars of the show. I mean, we’re bringing the big names, Anya Terrel was class six champion
 
Sean spun around again “Chaka Mobutu was 3028’s open class champion, 3029’s is Anya Terrel.” Marius did his best to hide his smile
 
“Huh, smart kid you got there your lordship. Yeah, Mobutu was ’28 but, he’s also gonna be the champ again this year! Last year was a fluke, he had engine trouble and...nevermind. Anyways, big names like him, coming here, fighting your best, and equal billing! You’re the stars of the show!”
 
“What’s the split?”
 
“Totally 50/50! Pay Per View, box office and sponsorships!”
 
“Sold.”
 
Dick grinned and stuck out his hand, “Deal then!”
 
Marius didn’t take it, “We bow here, Dick.”
 
Dick forced a smile and bowed, then made his exit.
 
“Dad, why’d you make him bow now?” Sean asked.
 
“Since he’s a foreigner I can forgive him not knowing protocol and bowing when he entered, but he must be made to respect my position. When you are Imperator you must only allow someone outside of the family to act informally if you allow them the privilege. People must always treat you with respect.”
 
Who knows what kind of disease a dick whose shoved himself into every home in the Inner Sphere might carry? Flashed into his eye.
 
Marius smiled and shook his head, “Just bring in the next one, Harcourt”
 
“Next is Prefect Marcus. I suspect you can already guess that he wants.”
 
“Can we afford it?”
 
“We can.”
 
“I’m not sure if that’s the answer I wanted or not. Well, I’m not going to be held hostage by my own guard. Send him-”
 
Praetorian Prefect Marcus Gibson, commander of the Capitaline Legion, in joint command of the Praetorian Guard entered of his own accord. He gave a perfunctory salute. “Imperator.”
 
“Prefect.”
 
“Imperator, I beg you to reconsider your decision on bonuses for the Praetorian Guard.”
 
“We have been over this five times in the last year, Prefect. The Guard received their bonus when I ascended, and they received their bonuses when you asked five years later, and five years after that, and five years after that, and then three years after that, and then you ask me two years after that for more. When does it end? By my count, you’ve got four years until the next one, if I decide that you’ve earned one.”
 
“It is tradition, one that we Guard rely on!”
 
“And how much will the tradition cost the Marian people this year?”
 
“5000 C-bills per Guard, double that for officers.”
 
“Are you mad, Marcus? Last year, you asked me for 3000 and my answer was no. What madness possesses you to think I would give you nearly twice that?
 
“The men are relying on it, Imperator, they’ve made decisions based on, they’ve been promised it.”
 
“Not by me. Every C-bill I spare from the Imperial coffer robs the frontline legions. Their work expanding the Pax Marianus is worth far more than your loitering about the palace”
 
“Imperator! The Praetorian Guard are your most loyal servants, do they not deserve to be rewarded?”
 
“No Marcus! My most loyal subjects are fighting and dying right now on Kogl and Atzenbrugg. Ten years ago, when you asked for your bonuses, they were dying on Illyria. You never advocate for them do you?” He hadn’t realized he was shouting. Sean and Livia were now staring at him.
 
“It’s not my place! I am the Prefect of the Praetorian Guard, not the lesser legions, let their Generals look after their men.”
 
Marius was calm now, his voice even. The children recognized the tone. They stood frozen in place, terrified of catching their Imperator’s attention. “Marcus, you are a servant. You serve at my pleasure. If you wish to continue-”
 
“Marius, please, see sense-”, Marius twitched his eye. Harcourt recognized the signal from his old partner. In a single circular motion he stripped the Prefect’s pistol from its holster and struck him at the base of the skull with its stock. The Prefect fell to the floor. Two Praetorians rushed into the room, guns drawn, but Marius held a hand to halt them.
 
“Stand down, but stay. Watch.” He put the heel of his sandal on the side of Marcus’ head. Slowly, he put his weight onto the foot.
 
“You serve me! I do not serve you. You will serve me in the capacity that I decide. If you think standing around on Alphard is worthy of reward, then I think you have forgotten what frontline service is like. You are hereby stripped of rank and will serve as a Miles in the Legio Morituri for a period of no less than ten years.”
 
Blood was trickling from Marcus’ temple by the time Marius lifted his foot. The Praetorians helped Marcus to his feet and dragged him away.
 
Marius looked to his son, who in turn, cast his eyes down. “Respect, Sean. Never let anyone disrespect the Imperator.”
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===Handing Disloyalty and Complaisance===
The Imperial Palace, Alphard IV
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Trumpets blew and the herald called, “The business of the court is concluded! All bow before for the Imperator!”
 
A hundred score senators and advisors bowed before him, and hundreds more on remote live feeds did the same. Only Harcourt and the Praetorians Guard remained standing. Marius rose and strode from the room. Harcourt and a handful of Praetorians followed. Marius maintained the straight, rigid posture until the doors to the residential section of the palace closed behind him. He sighed as he relaxed. Together, they strode across a skyway over the gardens. He spied his daughter and paused a moment. He watched, silently as she whispered to some Humphrey’s girl. The latest in a string of replacements as “best friend” now that the real thing was on tour in the Lothian League. He wondered where Sean was. He hoped he was working on his reports, but suspected some mischief. He sighed again. That could be tomorrow’s worry.
 
He dismissed the guard and headed to his private chambers with Harcourt.
 
He collapsed into a chair and put his face in his hands.
 
“Christ, how long was that Harcourt?”
 
“Ten hours.”
 
“About four too long. Makes me want to change the constitution and get rid of those blowhards.”
 
“You’re the one who gave them extra powers. Your grandfather used to kill a few of them every year, just to keep them from getting out of line.”
 
“Yeah, well, unlike him I want to live to see my 60s.”
 
“Hey hey, that’s baseless speculation! The Ordo Viglius never found any proof of foul play.”
 
They both burst out laughing. His father, Gaius O’Reilly, had made the same comment almost daily through the first nineteen years of Marius’ life. When Marius began his service in the Ordo Vigilis one of the first things he did was threaten his way into getting a copy of the coroner's report on the death of Lucius O’Reilly. The report ruled it a suicide. But Marius had his doubts any suicide would be able to shoot himself so cleanly in the back of the head, let alone do it twice.
 
“Speaking of which, Imperator, there’s something we have to discuss.”
 
Marius motioned to the chair next to his, “not now Harcourt. It’s been a long day. I just want to sit here and rest.”
 
Harcourt sat. The Imperator took Harcourt’s left hand in his gently stroked the top with his thumb.
 
“It really can’t wait, Marius.”
 
“Fine.”
 
“It’s the Securitatis Internum, they’ve been hearing rumours about the Praetorian Guard. They’re restless. We knew they’d be unhappy with the denial of bonuses, and you’re right, they’ll just keep asking for more, and doing it more often. But, what you did to Prefect Marcus, that’s crossed a line. I don’t know if you realized how much the Guard loved him.”
 
“He deserved it.”
 
“Sure, but it just made the problem bigger.”
 
“And what word from the Praesidii Praetoris? It is their job to make sure the Praetorians are kept in line, surely they would have heard something ?”
 
“They say everything is fine, but these days they’re more likely to identify with the Guard than with the Ordo Vigilis.
 
“Or the Internum is flexing its muscle, and it’s director is trying to discredit the Praesidii. Harcourt, how many supposed palace coups were planned on my father, and how many of those turned out to be real? How many have the Praesidii and Internum brought to us since I took power, and how many, when you looked into them, turned out to be nothing?”
 
“Yes, but, Marius, there’s more than I don’t tell you about, I only tell you about these when there is evidence, and this time, there is. Not just idle gossip and wishes, I think there are really Praetorians out there who would act against you. I’m really worried this time.” Harcourt placed his right hand over his left, and with it Marius’ hand. He looked, pleading, into Marius’ eyes.
 
“Very well. Send the culprits to the Morituri.”
 
“That….is something else I think we need to discuss.”
 
Marius rolled his eyes.
 
“I know we’ve been through this, but every year the problem gets worse. Every time there’s a problem, any time someone pisses you off, you send them to the Morituri. You know under Gaius and Lucius, the Morituri was a battalion. A single battalion! The Morituri is a legion strong, and it's your biggest legion. Putting everyone who hates you together in the same unit and giving them BattleMechs. Look, I know there are debates of precedent, but the size is unprecedented!”
 
“And what, you’d have me do nothing to the plotters?”
 
“Of course not, but—”
 
“Do you want me to crucify them, Harcourt? I would rather die than become a monster like my father. Maybe I should throw them in the arena for execution like a common murderer, where they might fluke a victory and win the acclamation of the people? Or maybe the Imperial prisons, which are run by the same Praetorians you think I should be afraid of? Send them into exile where they could come back leading an army of mercenaries paid for by an enemy state? Hmm, Harcourt?”
 
“No, but, there are plenty of other options! Send them to Algenib as slaves, governor Maximus would be happy to lose them in a sulphur pit somewhere. Or to New Venice, there is nothing Gurdeep wouldn’t do for you.”
 
“No, Harcourt. If they were common soldiers maybe, but who do I send? Legates, senatorial scions, Praetorians with a career of allies and contacts. As guests of Maximus or Gurdeep, they’d be too free. As slaves, they’d be eternal reminders of my tyranny and their shame that would turn their families into my enemies. The Morituri, that’s a shot at redemption the others don’t have. It’s a place of honour, of position, and they’re watched by thousands of loyal soldiers.”
 
“There has to be some other way. The problem is only going to get worse. Did you hear about what happened on Matsuida? Imagine if the dropship carrying your jailers gets shot down.”
 
“Fine, don’t send them. Tell me, these rumours, are they coming from the Palatine Legion, the Captaline Legion, or both?”
 
“The Capitaline Legion, that was Marcus’ command.”
 
“Good. Mobilize them, with air and battle armour support. I want them to take the offensive, call back a loyal frontline legion if you think Alphard is under threat.”
 
Harcourt looked on in shock, “That’s never been done before, ever.”
 
“You want a solution that doesn’t end up swelling the Morituri? This is it. I’ve been paying attention to the rumblings in the other legions, Harcourt. While they’re off on the biggest military campaign since the Second Succession War, the Praetorians are sitting back and growing fat off of bonuses. Let them shoulder their fair part of the Burden. Do it.”
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ICHaFBI 3