“What is this?” Roque asks angrily. “Romulus…” His words falter as an image of Asteroid S-1988,
part of the Karin sub-family of the Koronis family of asteroids in the Kuiper Belt between Mars and Jupiter, blossoms in the air. It rotates slowly over the table. The green stream of data beneath it spelling the Sovereign’s doom. It’s a series of falsified Society communiqués detailing the delivery of supplies to an asteroid without a base. The stream continues to roll, detailing high-level Society directives for “refueling” at the asteroid. Then it shows the footage of the ship I sent away from the main fleet to investigate the asteroid as the rest of us journeyed to Jupiter. Reds float through the dark warehouse. The small jets on their suits silent in the vacuum. But their Geiger meters, which are synced to their helms, crackle at the amount of radiation in the place. A far greater amount of radiation than is present in the legal five megaton warheads which are used in space combat.
Romulus stares at Roque. “If Rhea was not to be repeated, then why did your fleet empty a nuclear
weapons depot before coming to our orbit?”
“We did not visit the depot,” Roque says, still trying to process what he’s seen and the implications of it. The evidence is compelling. All lies are better served with a hefty helping of the truth. “The Sons of Ares pillaged it months ago. The information is falsified.” He’s operating off of the wrong information. Which means the Sovereign has kept the Jackal’s sedition tight to her chest. And now she pays for trusting so few. He’s not prepared for this argument and it shows.
“So there is a depot,” Romulus asks. Roque realizes how devastating the admission was. Romulus frowns and continues. “Imperator Fabii, why would there be a secret depot of nuclear weapons between here and Luna?”
“That’s classified.”
“Surely you jest.”
“The Societal Navy is responsible for the security of…”
“If it was for security then wouldn’t it be nearer a base?” Romulus asks. “This is near the edge of the asteroid belt on the path a fleet from Luna would use when Jupiter is in closest orbit to the sun. As if it was a cache meant to be acquired by an Imperator on the way to my home…”
“Romulus, I realize how this looks….”
“Do you, young Fabii? Because it looks as if you were considering annihilation to be an option against people you call brother and sister.”
“This information is clearly falsified….”
“Except the existence of the depot…”
“Yes,” Roque admits. “That exists.”
“And the nuclear warheads. With that much radiation?”
“They’re for security.”
“But the rest of it is a lie?”
“Yes.”
“So you didn’t, in fact, come to my home with enough nuclear weapons to make our moons glass?”
“We did not,” Roque says. “The only warheads we have aboard are for ship-to-ship combat. Five
megaton yield, max. Romulus, on my honor…”
“The same honor you had when you betrayed your friend…” Romulus gestures to me. “When you
betrayed honorable, Lorn. My ally, Augustus. My father, Revus. That honor by which you watched as
my daughter ’s head was stomped in by a sociopathic matricide who takes orders from a sociopathic
patricide?”
“Romulus…”
“No, Imperator Fabii. I do not believe you deserve the intimacy of using my given name any longer. You call Darrow a savage, a liar. But he came here wearing his heart on his sleeve. You came with the lies. Hiding behind manners and breeding…”
“ArchGovernor Raa, you must listen. There’s explanation if you will just…”
“Enough,” Romulus screams. Surging to his feet and slamming his large hand on the table.
“Enough hypocrisy. Enough schemes. Enough lies you sniveling Core sycophant.” He trembles finally with the rage. “If you were not my guest, I would hurl my glove at you and cut your manhood away in the Bleeding Place. Your lost generation has forgotten what it means to be Gold. You have forsaken your heritage. Suckling at the tit of power, and why? For what? Those wings on your shoulders? Imperator. ” He scoffs at the word. “You whelp. I pity a world where you decide if a man like Lorn au Arcos lives or dies. Did your parents never teach you?” They did not. Roque was raised by tutors, by books. “What is pride without honor? What is honor without truth? Honor is not what
you say. It is not what you read.” Romulus thumps his chest. “Honor is what you do.”
“Then do not do this….” Roque says.
“Your master did this,” Romulus replies indifferently. “If she could not make us bow, she would make us burn. Again.”