ICHaFBI 5

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=I, Corvus; How a Fool became Imperator of the O'Reillys - Chapter V -=
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----<Character & Faction Directory of I, Corvus>----
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===Searching for Victory===
The Imperial Palace
Nova Roma, Gaul Continent
Alphard IV, Latium District
Marian Hegemony
15th October, 3030
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Imperator Marius reclined underneath a pergola in a secluded section of the palace gardens. It was his private sanctuary, where even the Imperial family could not come without permission. Tonight, he made an exception for his son and his aide to enjoy the sunset. The men drank Timbiqui Dark and the boy Timbiqui Cola in honour of the successful campaign.
 
They sat together a long while before Marius spoke. “Gentlemen, I think the nation needs a triumph.”
 
The other two looked up at him.
 
“We’ve doubled the size of the Hegemony this year, with planets from three different states, wildly different cultures. We need something to bind the people together.”
 
“I’m not sure parading around their leaders in chains will bring that result, Imperator.” Harcourt replied.
 
“No, but we won’t broadcast that part. But banquets and games and such like throughout the Hegemony, that will win them over. Show the plebs that we can give them more than their old rulers.”
 
“Of course, Imperator. Which victory did you have in mind?”
 
“I think it should be representative of the entire 3030 campaign. We’ve grown far and fast, and all nine legions have had important parts to play. Let all of them send representatives.”
 
“That will take some doing, but it can be arranged. And who shall be honoured for the victory? If we’re honouring the entire campaign then you as commander in chief?”
 
“No, once is enough for me. Besides, it would be rather unseemly for me to steal the glory from our officers who’ve fought so hard in our name. The two greatest campaigns were Kogl and Timbiqui, by a large margin. Sean, who do you think we should honour?”
 
“Timbiqui.” Sean replied.
 
“Hah! Of course the boy would choose that! He planned the damn thing!” Harcourt tapped Sean gently with his fist. “Eh Sean? You think we should honour you?”
 
Sean sunk a little in his chair. “No. They didn’t even use my plan.”
 
“If you see it that way, son, then I think it's big of you to give the honour to the generals whom you think ignored you. But I think it may be unfair to say they did. The most important part of your plan was redeploying our forces from around the Hegemony in a way that provided enough force to take Timbiqui, without weakening the borders and I think you did a better job than most of our generals could! Trust me son, in war, it’s logistics that brings victory, not tactics. Yes, they had to improvise on the ground, but that is what good generals do. You have to trust them, you will rely on them some day.”
 
“Ok, Dad.” Sean stayed sulking in his chair, but Marius knew his words had found their mark.
 
“I agree with, my son, Timbiqui is the right choice. But we do have the question of whom to honour. Both generals of the Legio Morituri are dead, the general of Legio IV is dead as well. God knows how many legates were taken with them in the bombing.”
 
Harcourt held up five fingers.
 
“Hmm, really? What’s the old toast? ‘To a short and bloody war’? Corvus would know, I’m sure. Anyways, I’ve already reached out to the General Hargreaves of Legio IV, and she’s refused the honour, says she’s needed on Galisteo. Recommended to me a certain Legate Horatius. Harcourt, thoughts?”
 
“I’ll need to check the Ordo Vigilis files, but it's a good choice. From a plebeian family, but a well connected and wealthy one with important Senator patrons. He has a glowing reputation as far as I can recall, and the dispatches did say he managed to prevent the battle of Piamonte from turning into a rout, and was mentioned in the dispatches and recommended for a medal for personal bravery at the battle of Jambalo.”
 
“Good. He’ll be the man then. Now the question becomes, who will we honour and how? I’ve been thinking of what you said the other night. Perhaps it’s time to show greater mercy and reduce the Morituri. Have their officers choose a single MechWarrior from each Cohort to be granted their freedom. No lifers, of course.”
 
“Naturally.”
 
“I want Timbiqui products everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Every variety, every flavour. I want produce from Kendall on every table, manufactured goods from Kogl as presents to the people, and whatever the Lothian worlds have. Children? Bring in a choir of cute children or something. I want everything I had at my triumph. Columns of captured mechs and armour, formation flying from our aerospace pilots, client rulers coming to kiss my hand in person and those who didn’t surrender in chains before me. Flowers lining the street, laurel crowns, everything.”
 
Marius looked pleased with himself as he grabbed another Timbiqui Dark. He lay drinking for a while longer.
 
“What shall we do with you, son?”
 
“Huh?”
 
“I mean, for the triumph! You should have some role, given the first half of the Timbiqui campaign was your plan. Perhaps an ovation by the senate, the day after the procession finishes. How would you like that, Sean?”
 
He’d never seen his son smile so wide. He grabbed another can of Timbiqui Dark and tossed it to him. “Don’t tell your mother.” He nodded and opened the can.
 
“Corvus too. He didn’t muck things up on Logan Prime. He should be present in the box with me, at least for when the Lothian leaders come to swear their loyalty. Corvus and Lucia. Yeah… that should do it. Looks like you’ve got a lot of work to do, Harcourt.”
 
Harcourt stood to leave, but the Imperator grabbed his arm. “It can wait. Stay here with me tonight. Sean, why don’t you take another can and head back to your rooms.” The boy left and the two men watched the stars together until they drifted off to sleep.
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===A Parade to Remember===
Via Victoria, Capitoline Hill
Nova Roma, Gaul Continent
Alphard IV, Latium District
Marian Hegemony
4st January, 3031
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“Father! I can’t see anything!” Livia whined from the Imperial Box.
 
The Imperator snapped his fingers. “Harcourt, find some opera glasses for Livia.”
 
Harcourt turned and inclined his head towards a slave who took off jogging down the steps from the Imperial box. He had a long way to go.
 
The Imperial box had been set up over the Viae Marianus just in front of the Forum, so every soldier, mech, and captive would pass beneath the Emperor as they ended their triumphal procession. It was 16 meters high and stretched across what would normally be eight lanes of traffic.
 
The view was perfect for Marius. Perhaps her daughter’s eyes needed checking, but he thought she was tired of the attention her brother was getting.
 
Sean sat beside his father, wearing the same Imperial Purple and laurel crown. His ovation would be tomorrow, and Marius wanted the perfect propaganda image of the three men together, to shore up his son’s credentials as a leader. Marius had only been 19 himself when his father’s heart had given out. The doctors told Marius he hadn’t inherited the same heart defect, and he personally planned to give his song another half-century of training, but where reputation was concerned, it helped to start early, especially given the reputation he was already earning with the young ladies at court.
 
He had never seen Sean so excited. Below them marched a thousand men all chained together. Each row wore a different uniform representing a world conquered by the Hegemony. Some of the uniforms and ‘national dress’ had to be invented in the wardrobe department. Behind them marched their families: hostages for their world’s good behavior.
 
Shattered mechs and tanks followed. All enemy machines, of course, to show the might of the Hegemony. It was a shame that only Kogl and Timbiqui had put up a real fight. They’d had to use their own salvage dressed up in the colours of other nations to get the desired effect.
 
Then came floats honouring the Hegemony’s new “allies”. Countess Elizabeth Montcalm, ruler of Kendall, who submitted to the Hegemony before the first shows were fired. She played the part perfectly, with an honour guard dressed in exotic face paint, and her beautiful young children smiling and waving at the crowd.
 
Halfdan Embury, the CEO of Timbiqui Spirits and governor of Timbiqui followed with a float that capped with a literal fountain of beer. A horde of youths dressed Timbiqui mascots raced to and fro with bottles of alcohol for the crowd.
 
Sean was most excited for the third ally: the Brock’s Busters mercenary company. Brock himself had led a lance of his finest (and most imposing) assault 'mechs to the triumph. Sean leaned over the railing as the tallest, a Banshee, nearly scrapped along the bottom of the Imperial box.
 
“They were at Timbiqui, father?” He asked, in awe.
 
“Yes. Do you understand now why we bargained?”
 
“I think I do.”
 
“Machines like that are hard to find in the Periphery, no matter how deep your pockets. Before the campaign, we only had three cohorts of them. Now, we have four. Whatever happens children, avoid waste.”
 
“I’m bored of the parade. It’s been going on for hooours! When do the games states?” Livia whined.
 
Corvus chuckled behind them. “Oh, young lady, in old R-r-rome, they’d last a f-f-full three days sometimes! C-c-count yourself lucky.”
 
“Wow…” Livia said.
 
“Oh, fine, go stretch your legs Livia, just make sure to be back for Legate’s entry, it would be an insult if the whole family weren’t here to greet the man of the hour.”
 
Livia jumped up and ran to Lucia, whispered into her ear, and the two disappeared giggling together.
 
Marius grinned. “Lucia will regret that, she’s going to miss the best part. The Lothians are up next.”
 
“Oh, b-b-believe me, after a month on the JumpShip home with th-th-them, she won’t want anything else to d-d-do with them for a while.”
 
The Lothians all sat together, happy and smiling. If Corvus could be relied on, and Marius did indeed doubt it, then their peaceful coexistence for a few hours had been the most complicated aspect of the triumph to arrange.
 
Next came the spoils of war. Truck after truck of Timbiqui products for the feast, produce from Kendall, fine cloth from Atzenbrugg, appliances from Kogl, fine art seized from an ancient cache on Dalcour. When a world was too poor to produce anything interesting came hundreds of slaves huddled together. All these and more to be given as gifts to the people at the height of the feast.
 
A series of floats depicting the greatest victories in Hegemony history followed, including the triumphs of the four Imperators. Corvus mumbled out the histories of each one, and Sean, spellbound by the parade, listened to him without insult for perhaps the first time since he was eight.
 
Victory does this to a family. He thought with a smirk. I shall have to bring them more.
 
Then came the senators and the magistrates in all their glory. The Imperator turned around and motioned for Harcourt. “The girls are cutting it close. Go round them up before Horatius arrives.”
 
Harcourt nodded and spoke into a handheld comm unit, “They’re in amongst the crowd, a team of Praetorians is with them. They’ll be back in time.”
 
Marius hoped so. The Legate’s lictors, wearing their red robes of war and carrying fasces covered in laurels, were already in view. Not long after would come the Legate’s golden chariot.
 
The girls appeared, still giggling and took their seats.
 
“Shh, calm down, please. Show respect for the Legate.” Harcourt whispered to them before taking his place at the Imperator’s side.
 
The Legate stopped and passed the reins to his adjutant. He stepped out onto a platform that began to raise him to the level of the box. Marius marveled at the man’s height and physique. He looked to him like a statue come to life, and all the more imposing in his gold and purple toga and laurel crown. Oddly though, he wore a golden mask over his face in the image of Imperator Johann Sebastion. Marius could see the traditional red paint poking from the edges of the mask. He turned to Harcourt.
 
“Ah, the Legate suffered facial wounds during the campaign when his tank was destroyed. He didn’t want to frighten the children and he thought the mask was a fitting tribute to your lineage.”
 
Marius shrugged. “I think the children can handle it. They’ve seen worse in the arena, surely? No matter, I’ll ask him myself.” Marius rose from his chair to greet his champion, with Sean at his side.
 
The platform halted and the Legate bowed at it’s edge. Marius stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
 
“Rise, Horatius. But rise not as Legate Horatius Varro, but in honour of your victories, arise as Prefect Horatius Timbiquianus, military governor of the Campania District. The Lyran worlds the forces under your command conquer will be your domain!”
 
Horatius rose. Even through the mask, Marius could see tears forming in his eyes. “Let me look upon the face of my champion. Your scars honour you, like it did the ancient Romans, who wore their scars with pride.” He lifted the mask from Horatius' face. Then dropped it in horror.
 
The adults in the box stood frozen. The children looked around in confusion.
 
“My G-g-god! Sertorius!” Corvus finally coughed out. “H-h-how?”
 
Marius recoiled from the horrific, grinning visage of his exiled brother looming over him. “Guards!” Marius cried, over and over again, but the Praetorians did not move. Harcourt was screaming something at them, but Marius couldn’t make it out. Harcourt grabbed at one of their pistols.
 
Sertorius pulled a pistol of his own and shot Harcourt twice.
 
Marius screamed with rage and lunged forward, but a pair of shots to the gut dropped him.
 
Everything started to blur together. Sean was screaming, but a Praetorian had restrained him. Corvus was on his knees pleading.The girls were...somewhere else?
 
He steadied himself on the throne and tried to pull himself up. A boot collided with his face. “Please…just don’t hurt my children…”
 
“I’m not a kinslayer, Marius. You’re the one who inherited that taint from father. The children will be safer under my care than they ever were under yours.” He handed the pistol to a Praetorian and stepped away.
 
The last thing Marius saw was the grinning face of Marcus Gibson, wearing his old Praetorian Legate’s outfit as he took aim at Marius’ head.
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ICHaFBI 5