ICHaFBI 7

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=I, Corvus; How a Fool became Imperator of the O'Reillys - Chapter VII -=
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----<Character & Faction Directory of I, Corvus>----
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===Urgent talk between cousins===
The Imperial Palace
Nova Roma, Gaul Continent
Alphard IV, Latium District
Marian Hegemony
4th January, 3031
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Corvus shuffled as slowly as he could manage towards the throne room. He exaggerated his limp and played the doddering fool, stopping to ask inane questions, fuss with his toga, anything to buy a few more seconds.
 
It did no good. His mind raced, but he could find no way out. Nothing could excuse him from a summons from the Imperator. It had been seven years since he was sent away, and even before then, Sertorius had always been guarded. Corvus didn’t know how to convince him of his own insignificance. He’d obviously failed already, or the summons wouldn’t have been made.
 
The Praetorians shuffled him alone and he ended up at the throne room before he knew it. He was used to the room being filled with senators and courtiers of all sorts, or least, servants and guards. But there was only Sertorius, sitting on the steps below the throne, turning over the golden laurel crown in his hands. He still had on the purple and gold toga from the triumph. Red face paint had run down his body onto the toga. At least, he hoped the red stains were from the paint.
 
“Leave us.” Sertorius commanded. The Praetorians hesitated. “Do you think the Butcher of Bourque can’t handle a single cripple? Go!” They turned and left Corvus alone with the Imperator.
 
“Approach.” He commanded and Corvus stumbled forward, tripping over his words, and his toga, as he bowed before his new ruler.
 
He felt Sertorius’ arms grab and lift him back to his feet. “Shhh….it’s all right now. I’m not going to hurt you.”
 
Corvus looked up, into his eyes, and almost believed him.
 
“I’m sorry, Corvus, for everything.” Sertorius hugged him, and held him tightly. Corvus stood, dumbfounded. The hug lingered far past Corvus’ level of comfort, which to be fair, was rather short for hugs from murderous usurpers.
 
Sertorius pulled back with tears in his eyes. Corvus noticed the paint had already run in trails from his eyes, signalling that it must not be the first time he’d cried recently.
 
“I know what you must think of me. But I need you to know something: Vibius’ death was not my doing. Marius did it to justify my exile. I loved no man as much as I did Vibius. We were never friends, Corvus, but you were very, very dear to him. And that makes you dear to me too. You, Lucia and Sinead, whatever I can do to protect you, I will.”
 
Corvus’ head twitched and his hands spasmed. “Th-th-thank you, C-c-cousin, I-I-I…” He sputtered on for a moment and trailed off.
 
Sertorius grabbed one of Corvus’ twitching hands. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Corvus. I know what you really are. Vibius told me his advice to you, and I understand. There need not be any secrets between us.”
 
Corvus straightened his back as much as he could and took a moment to calm the tics. “It’s n-n-not all for show. Much of it is real, I just...I just exaggerate it a little.”
 
“And you’ve fooled Marius for decades where men like Vibius and I fell to his schemes.”
 
“It’s not like that at all!” Corvus protested.
 
“Hush, you don’t need to lie anymore. It’s just us. Allow me this one moment with the real you, we may not have the chance for more for a long time.”
 
Corvus stood, silently, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
 
“I know what you did on Logan Prime. Sato was fostered in the palace one summer when you and Vibius were away. I know how to read between the lines of her reports. You’re a shrewd diplomat, and the perfect choice to bring Niops into the Pax Marianus. You’ll depart immediately.”
 
“B-b-but if you read it, you’ll know I needed Sato, and Mrs Serrano, and especially Lucia! I’ll need them all with me!”
 
“Sato, you’ll have. You don’t need the rest. I know what you’re trying to do. Keep Lucia close, and she’ll be safe from me. But I need you to understand that I’m not a threat to you or her. But there are a lot of threats in the palace. I need to send as much of the royal family away as possible. Even if you weren’t the best choice for Niops, I’d be sending you there as a visiting scholar or something like that. It’s not safe for you here, not with Marcus and his men on the warpath. Lucia and Sinead are already on their way to a DropShip. I’m keeping them far, far away from here.”
 
“Wh-what’s the pretense for that? Surely you can’t just disappear us all! Where are Sean and Livia?”
 
Sertorius' face hardened for a moment, and Corvus wondered if he’d pushed too far.
 
“Harsefeld is our biggest trading partner and the largest state outside of the Terran Union. Their union with Oriente is the perfect opportunity. Marius was foolish enough to ignore it thus far, but we’re going to pay our friends the respect they deserve. Sinead and Lucia will represent the Hegemony at the wedding.”
 
Corvus’ second question hung in the air, unanswered. So much for no secrets. Corvus reached for something else to fill the silence. “I fear S-Sinead may not survive a journey of that length.”
 
“The journey is a year and half, I doubt Sinead would survive that long regardless. Let them go together, share the time as parent and child, stop and see the sights along the way. Surely it’s better than wasting away in her villa?”
 
Corvus nodded. He would have to be satisfied.
 
“Good. Get ready to go. Until you get onto the DropShip, trust only my men. I know you don’t trust me yet, but give me a chance and you will see how this country changes. Watch from Niops, and when you’re done, when you’re comfortable with what you’ve seen, come back. Without Vibius, you and Siobhan are all I have of my old life. I want you to be a part of my new life someday.”
 
A pair of Morituri entered and led him directly to a DropShip. His entire library had already been loaded aboard and Magistrate Sato was already strapped in, though for once, perhaps, her frown wasn’t caused by his presence.
 
“Ms. S-S-Sato, what a pleasure to see you again. What c-c-can you tell me about Niops?”
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===A warm welcome for a visiting Scholar===
Dropship Concordia
On Approach to Sagan City Spaceport
Niops VII, Niops Association
11th February, 3031
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“I hope you will stick to the plan this time, Corvus.”
 
Corvus chuckled. “Oh, I give you my word, Ms. Sato, I will f-follow our plan.”
 
“You promised the same at Logan Prime. I hope I’ve shown you enough goodwill since then that you will keep your word this time.”
 
“That was different! That was your plan, this is our plan. I swear to you, I will leave the politick-k-king in your capable hands, my dear magistrate.”
 
She scowled at him. Over the last year he’d become quite familiar with the quality of her scowls. This one meant, ‘grudging respect and acceptance’. Or at least that’s what he projected onto it.
 
The warning signal came on for the DropShips final approach and he focused on his breathing. Focus. That was the secret. Well, one of the secrets. It was hard to focus on anything with his…condition. But the curse always dulled if he could find something to grab his attention. Writing helped. It wasn’t possible to write under so many Gs, so he thought instead. If he were a historian, how would he look back at the last Imperator, now that his reign had ended? Would the reversals on the frontier be blamed on him, or his successor? Will the conquests be considered folly and be lost, like Trajan’s had, and if so, would Marius be a hero simply for having made them, as his ancient predecessor had?
 
Perhaps when things had calmed, he would add a new volume to his histories. He’d never dared to write beyond Imperator Lucius’ reign.
 
His hands were steady and his thoughts clear by the time the DropShip landed. Niops VII’s Spaceport was the polar opposite of Logan Prime’s. At least a dozen landing pads surrounded them, all in perfect order. Towering buildings filled the landscape. Ground crews were already scrambling around to secure the DropShip. Everything looked like it was polished to perfection.
 
Most auspiciously, the welcoming committee came out to greet them. Perhaps thirty people in all, half of them in arcane robes, hoods, and other strange pieces of clothing. They reminded Corvus of fairy tales of wizards and jesters, only more extravagant. The rest carried themselves like slaves, which confused Corvus as he had read there was no slavery here.
 
A handful of them walked forward and bowed to Sato. “Magistrate Sato, I am Associator Amoli Nellis. High Associator Brandex Da-Ri regrets that they cannot be present, due to an unforeseen event. Please, come with me and I will escort you and staff to your rooms.” Sato nodded and followed along, with her train of baggage and support staff in tow.
 
That left Corvus staring awkwardly at the remaining twenty-something people, all eagerly grinning at him. Corvus could feel his focus slipping away. His eyes began to dart around the spaceport and his left hand began to twitch. “I...uh...I should go with them sh-sh-shouldn’t I…?” he mumbled out, pointing after Sato.
 
An old man in what could only be described as the most ostentatious robe nearly jumped and shuffled towards Corvus. “Oh! No! Of course not, Mr. O’Reilly-Logan! Please, allow me to shake your hand and welcome you properly.”
 
Corvus extended his hand and the old man shook it with both of his.
 
“My name Horace Hornung. I am the Chancellor of the University of Niops. It is a pleasure and an honour to welcome an esteemed scholar such as yourself to our institution. Please, allow me to introduce you to some of my colleagues. Freedman especially, I’ve heard nothing from him over the last month but anticipation for your arrival!”
 
The old man slowly led Corvus over to the gathered dignitaries, who formed a semi-circle around them. Each took it in turn to shake his hand or pat him on the shoulder.
 
“I d-d-didn’t expect such a w-w-welc-come. I...thank you.” Not a single one’s face changed as he stuttered his way through the sentence, they all kept smiling and talking over one another. Eventually, the Chancellor shooed them away, leaving only a pair of wizards and their slaves behind, a man and a woman.
 
The man stuck his hand out and gave his a vigorous shake, “It’s rare that we get visitors of any sort on Niops, let alone a historian of your stature. Essays on the Social Impact of the Death of the Rim Worlds Republic is required reading for all my students. Your essay on the impact of Operation ALMARIC on the identify of Lyran borderworlds especially has had an enormous impact on my own work, on the performance of Rasalhaguan identity in the Combine’s successor states. I do hope you’ll audit some of my courses while you’re our guest, I think you’ll-”
 
The old man cut in. “This is Michael Freedman, the Dean of History at the University of Niops. You’ll have to excuse him, the humanities and social sciences don’t have nearly the prestige he believes they are due on Niops, and your arrival has raised his profile and expanded his head quite a bit. And this,” he pointed to the woman, “Is Natalya Rajkumar, a professor emeritus and Research Chair of Political Studies at the Niopian Institute of Social Research.
 
The woman reached out her hand. Corvus guessed she was in her 40s, far too young to be a professor emeritus, and she carried herself in the same sort of way that Harcourt and Marius had. “A pleasure to meet you, Corvus. I hope that we get a chance to meet in private, very soon. I’m sure you’d understand my curiosity for your opinion on recent political events in the Hegemony.”
 
Corvus made a mental note to avoid such a situation at all costs. “Of c-c-course Professor Rajkumar, it would be an honour.”
 
The Chancellor grabbed Corvus by the hand and began to pull him towards the terminal. “Ah! Good, now that we all know each other, I think it’s time to engage is that most important ritual that has bound academics together since the founding of the University of Paris: drink!”
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===The tough questions on the Podium===
Nkrumah Hall, University of Niops
Sagan City
Niops VII, Niops Association
11th February, 3031
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Corvus squirmed in his chair. He wished he’d brought cue cards just to have something to occupy his hands while he waited. The waiting never got any easier. Behind him was a curtain, and behind that, the biggest lecture hall on Niops. One thousand and six hundred people waiting to hear him, not to mention the video and holo streams going out across Niops’ three worlds.
 
His mouth began to twitch, violently. He didn’t hold it back. Here, it couldn’t be seen, best to get it all out there. His hands and arms began to jerk. There were sure to be bruises tomorrow. Dr. Freedman flashed him a thumbs up as he passed before slipping between the curtains. It would only be a moment now.
 
Freedman’s had the powerful voice of a born teacher. He was clear even without the sound system. “Faculty, students, esteemed guests, and members of the public, both those who are present at Hall today, and the thousands streaming at home around the Association. Welcome to the 72nd annual Nkrumah lecture series, hosted by the University of Niops in honour of High Associator Kwasi Nkrumah. This year’s series is called Old World, New Ideas and focuses on applying lessons from the distant past to our modern world. Who better to share their insights than the most learned scion of the O’Reilly family, who have built the third biggest economy in the galaxy using three thousand year old lessons in political, military, economic, and social affairs.”
 
“This is only the fifth time that the department of history has been chosen to host the Nkrumahs, so you can imagine the disappointment of my colleagues when I chose an outsider to present.” He paused a moment for a murmuring laughter from the crowd. “But when I told them who I was inviting to the Nkrumahs, none argued with the choice. Corvus O’Reilly-Logan has had an unconventional life for a scholar. He holds no degree, but has benefited from private tutoring from some of the brightest minds of the Periphery. His Periphery origins and freedom from traditional schooling has freed his mind from the culture of the university and allowed him to make connections that we have blinded ourselves to in our siloed departments. Please, join me in welcoming Corvus for our fourth lecture tonight.”
 
The applause overwhelmed him, every time. Just as the stage lights did when he stepped through the curtains. His legs shook, only half from the curse. He gripped the podium with both hands to stay upright and took a long, deep breath, then leaned over the microphone.
 
He breathed out, but without a word. Three times, he repeated it until he was finally able to force out his words. “Th-thank you all for c-c-coming.” His jaw wrenched and a series of spasms in his abdomen forced the breath out of his lungs. He took a moment to calm his body. The crowd let him.
 
“M-m-my apologies, I’m so excited to be here th-that all the words c-c-came at once and jammed the way out.” The audience gave a polite laugh, but otherwise waited, patiently.
 
Corvus took the time to collect himself. His mind began to wander away, to all the people who refused him such moments, then forced his mind back to the topic at hand.
 
“For the last three lectures, I’ve spoken to you about the many ways the Marian Hegemony has applied the lessons of the Roman Empire in governance. But today, I want to look at thinkers who are much more recent, only a thousand years old rather than three. For the lessons we learn from history three thousand years ago are the product of the three thousand years of history between then and now. Stefan Amaris read Caesar, as did Aleksandr Kerensky, yet they applied it in two different ways in their own practice of politics and war. Both ways are different still from the European elites who studied it at early universities during the enlightenment.”
 
“History has its fashions, and while we historians strive to find the most robustly understood version of history, many valuable viewpoints are left by the wayside. Many, and I would hope most, are tossed aside for the right reasons as new evidence comes to light, and new ideas and perspectives are introduced that shake up our understanding of the past. But this is not always true. Many lines of inquiry, many fascinating ideas, die from the internal politics of historians, or from the lack of funding, or even from personal scandal or tragedies befalling their champions. Some are simply passed by, unnoticed, despite their brilliance.”
 
“Even when an idea does succeed and dominates history for generations, it is inevitably superseded by new interpretations. I thought it prudent to reevaluate some of these lost histories and historians, some of whom were giants in their day. For reading the same history today, they took away important lessons that we ignore to our peril today. Sometimes, these ideas are based on what scholars of the 31st century would call misinterpretations of history, but that does not lessen the importance of their lessons, nor can it overshadow the success of those who followed them.”
 
The words flowed from Corvus. Though he saw the audience in front of him, he didn’t register them the way he normally would have. They became part of the scenery. He felt as if he were alone addressing the gods. Tension seeped away from his shoulders as he talked. His focus was so intense he didn’t even notice that the tics had disappeared completely.
 
“...Imagine what Luttwak would say today about the Succession Wars. Would the Free Worlds League still be here if they had built a network of client states along the border? They were certainly the most well positioned to do so. We don’t need to look as far back as Rome for a good example. The Draconis Combine did employ such a strategy through the autonomous Rasalhague Republic to great success, delaying their collapse of another decade. But what lesson can a modern nation take from this? Modern states lack the depth of a Rome or a Combine, as we can see in the battles for Skye, Capella, and Donegal. Yet in this new age of war, as states undergo unheard of expansion, Luttwak’s understanding of Rome provides important lessons on how to build an Imperial state...”
 
When the tics and stutters did come, the crowd just sat and waited. He couldn’t think of a single person outside of Vibius’s side of the family, or the Serrano’s valley on Logan Prime who would do that, let alone a crowd this enough. All the nervousness was gone now, and with it, the urges.
 
“...Singh’s proposal to create Roman-style colonia with Gracchi-like land reform in the earliest days of the Terran Hegemony draws heavily on McIntyre’s reinterpretation of the colonia, despite the fact that McIntyre’s work had fallen out of fashion in the middle of the 22nd century…”
 
For a whole hour they allowed him to continue, rapt in attention. Why had no one told him his work was this popular abroad? Was Niops really this insular, and if so how did they even get copies? So many questions to ask of these people, and so many to ask of his own.
 
“...The past itself is not the only way a historian comes to learn about their past. Any historian worth their salt knows the value of historiography, yet today, I see only the ancestors of ideas that are still in contention today, which leaves the bulk of historical authors out of the conversation. We owe it to ourselves to take the intellectual paths we haven’t traveled from here to there. Sure, there will be dead ends, but as I hope I’ve shown you tonight, it has the potential to teach us lessons that we have forgotten, and we remain in ignorance at our peril.”
 
The crowd exploded into applause. Some whistled, some cheered. A few began to stand, then more. Three times already, they’d done the same. It affected him just as strong now as the first time. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He kept a hold of the podium still, but this time his knees were weak for another reason. A servant came with a chair and some water and placed them next to the podium.
 
Corvus sat, drank, and rested his vocal chords a moment. Then he grabbed the microphone from the podium. “I’ll be happy to take any questions you might have.” Hands shot up around the room. Corvus scanned it carefully for Sato’s plant. She’d told him to look for a piece of green jewelry. He saw a man in the third row with one hand up and the other another around a girl with a bright green broach. He hoped that was it. “Yes, you there in the third row.”
 
The man was young and wore the smug look common among students in their fourth year. “Yeah, so, I’m gonna ask the question everyone’s thinking: Marians are invading all the worlds on their border. Do you really think you could take Niops?”
 
Dr. Freedman shook his head and began to cross the stage to shut down the question. But Corvus just smiled. “Ah, an interesting thought experiment. As I hope my presence shows, the Hegemony considers Niops a friend, but every nation in the last thousand years has produced plans in the case of unfriendly coups in neighboring nations. So, I don't find the thought experiment offensive, as some might. Let me phrase it this way: why do you think Niops could stand up to an invasion?”
 
“Well, we’ve been building 'mechs and tanks non-stop. The Marian Legions fought to a stalemate on Timbiqui, and other industrial worlds are strong enough to fight back. Tikonov got hammered on Nirasaki, and Niops has twice the industrial capacity-”
 
“With a tenth of the population.”
 
“We’ve got the most advanced weapons in the sphere, the highest number of trained techs, and since we’ve been an organized independent state since the death of the Star League, a national identity most independent worlds don’t.”
 
“All fair points. But Niops shouldn’t look to Nirasaki or Timbiqui as their nearest analogue. Niops has three planets, and while they are all present in the same solar system, I would say that the former Lothian League or Illyrian Palatinate are better analogues, even if they lacked the industrial capacity. Take your well armed, well supplied, well supported, and well motivated Niops Association Militia. Where would you position it?”
 
“Here.”
 
“Niops VII? A sensible choice. It has the university, the capital, most government officials, most civilian manufacturing. It even produces just enough food to feed the population. Niops VII could hold off at least three legions, maybe four, even five on a bad day. That is obviously not viable for the Hegemony. However, the farms on Niops VII rely on potash from Niops V. Without it, the food supply cannot be guaranteed, and eventually the planet's granaries will run empty."
 
“So, Niops V and VII.”
 
“Ah, but what about feeding Niops V? Not possible without the main agricultural planet of Niops VI. No two worlds would be able to resist without the third. Give up any one of them, and the Association collapses. Choose Niops VI and VII, and the association can feed itself, but the raw materials and military machinery from Niops V would doom the war effort.”
 
“So then split it between all three!”
 
“Ah, but then you’ve spread yourself thin, like the Illyrians and the Lothians. Suddenly, a force that could repel four legions when united, can fall to two legions when divided. You’re also discounting the ability of the Hegemony navy to interdict travel between the three worlds. Relief becomes difficult, and leaves other worlds vulnerable, while civilian transport of military supplies, food, and potash becomes next to impossible.”
 
The room was dead silent. He could feel the tics and stresses begin to well up inside of him. He would have much preferred to bask in the admiration of his peers, but the fear of Sertorius was motivation enough to cast that aside.
 
“Does that answer the question?”
 
The student nodded.
 
“G-g-good. Well, let me take this opportunity then to reiterate how glad I am that the Hegemony and the Association have the best of relationships, and that we can as scholars, engage in these sorts of thought experiments as purely academic c-c-concerns. Next question? Ah! Yes, y-y-you in the back, in the red dress…”
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ICHaFBI 7