Crimson Stars - 4 (Patreon)

IV. Family

Inferno System

Thankfully, Szlachta was also something of an idiot. That meant that, even if her presence was unexpected it wasn’t likely to be an overly significant issue. As long as I promised her she could have her dueling tournaments and chase skirts to her heart’s content she would have no reason to object.

Perhaps there would be some hard feelings (since father had always spoiled her), but, at worst, I would need to give her a few decades to mope.

As such, I pulled on a smile to greet her. “Hello, little sister. What’s brought you home, then?”

“A new girlfriend. She wanted to meet with father,” Szlachta replied, while leading me into one of the various grand hallways of the palace.

It was a grandiose corridor which slowly spiraled down through the sprawling palace grounds. Rather inconveniently large, all for the sake of being ‘impressive’. Like most of the rest of the palace, meant to strike awe into the hearts of all who entered. Elegance I could appreciate, but such inconvenient grandiosity was another matter altogether.

The klivanions, mine and hers, both trailed us in silence, knowing it was not their place to speak.

“Found yourself a social climber, have you?” I asked, realising I had somewhat lost track of her romantic escapades of late.

In part because it had never been a high priority (her relationships rarely lasted more than a few years, after all). Also, though, because of rather complex and pressing matters involving the succession process.

“Actually, I think I’ve found the one,” Szlachta said, wearing a dreamy smile. “At least someone worth spending a century or two with.”

“Dear First One, you seem genuinely lovestruck,” I muttered, taking her in. Either she was earlier in the relationship than I realised or this was a significant development.

“She’s intelligent, charming, and…” a waggle of her eyebrows and a gesture of her hands filled in for silence, giving me an idea of her current girlfriend’s figure.

“You always were motivated by high romance,” I said, glad to see that this surprising development had not changed my sister to any truly significant degree.

“What can I say? I’ve always liked the more physical side of life,” Szlachta offered with a shrug. “I’m sure you’d like her too, though. She’s something of a scientist… what do you say we have a dinner together, after your little meeting with daddy?”

I gave a small nod, preparing to lie through my teeth. “If nothing major comes up, I would be happy to.”

For a brief second the smile that spread across Szlachta’s face seemed… strange. As if she were aware of some sort of inside joke I was not a part of.

It was probably just that I had accidentally repeated a quote from a piece of media she enjoyed or a similar matter, because the smile quickly shifted to a larger and more genuine grin.

“Good, good. I’ll go tell her,” she said, pausing as we reached one of the few elevators that went all the way down to father’s chambers. “Enjoy your little chat with daddy.”

“I will do my best,” I replied, still slightly unsure about her behaviour.

Perhaps she had some sort of a scheme in her head. She was, on occasion, prone to juvenile practical jokes and the like. Things that were never worth looking into to any great degree. It was simpler just to accept the minor outcomes than to bother trying to stop her.

As such, I stepped onto the elevator with my three personal guards. The high speed elevator all but dropped us down its kilometre long shaft, though the deceleration at the bottom was smooth and barely noticeable.

In these deep sublevels even the emperor’s budget found cavernous construction inordinately expensive, and so the majority of the corridors were far more utilitarian. They were also crawling with the imperial klivanions, a dozen men and women in the small space between the elevator and the warship grade airlocks that led to father’s chambers. Alongside the klivanions were also sentry guns, each with their own brain and an inability to ever move from their posts guarding this entrance.

“Crown Princess Nosu,” the senior ranking guard said as all slid to attention, “It is a pleasure.”

I gave a small nod. “Is my father free?”

“He will make time for one of his daughters,” the klivanion replied, as we both knew was the truth.

Father insisted on being a ‘family man’ as much as a vampire could be. An ancient habit lingering from his human life after the better part of a millenium as a vampire. Certain seeds of behaviour proved unchanging core aspects of a vampire’s personality across time, no longer how long they endured.

The guard made a brief radio call to father, informing him of my presence. As expected, I was allowed in while my klivanions were to stay behind. Only father’s daughters could possibly be trusted with weapons near the emperor, and there was no reason to bring an unarmed klivanion anywhere. Especially not with the risk one might have a weapon surgically implanted to escape detection.

Walking ahead, I crossed through the outer airlock door and felt minor apprehension as it slammed shut behind me. While the imperial palace was ancient, dating back to one of the earliest dynasties of vampiric rule, every aspect was well maintained in the present era. The… stability of father’s reign, free of major military action, had been good to the imperial house’s coffers, if not its prestige and legacy.

The inner door slid open in silence, and I entered a room that, unlike the corridors outside, did not fit the expectations of a facility over a kilometre beneath Impetus’ surface. The ceilings were high, and false skylights dotted them, showing constellations above. I found myself drawn to studying them, wondering which system’s viewpoint they were meant to display.

“It’s not the stars of any present sky, Nosu,” father’s voice announced as he strolled into the entrance chamber.

He looked more dead than I had expected. While I was not as vain as the socialites lurking hundreds of metres above us, there were still levels of transformation that even I found uncomfortable to see on other vampires.

“Ah, yes. Sorry, sweety. It’s been a while since I last fed… I don’t get that many guests, it slips my mind how uncomfortable my appearance is.”

“You should take better care of yourself, daddy,” I replied in the most sickly sweet tone I could manage, doing my best to keep the discomfort from rising any further in my gut.

Though it was not only his appearance bothering me, this close to him my deep primal instincts were now warring with my intentions. Some strange inversion of the evolutionary impulse to protect one’s offspring.

“I am as fed as I need to be, don’t worry dear.”

I gave a small nod and returned my attention to the false skylights, studying the stars. “There is something vaguely familiar about these… you’ve had this sky up before, haven’t you? That moon especially…”

My memory was not the photographic perfection some claimed to have, but it was good enough. Especially to recognise something as large as a major moon, hanging in the sky nearly as large as Minotaur.

“Indeed. I found it in—ah, well, you’re not here to hear me ramble about a minor research project, are you?”

“No, daddy,” I replied, turning to face him, ready to offer forward one last chance at peace. “I have come to ask you to rethink your position on those old laws.”

“Which ones in particular?” he asked, while leading me towards a small lounge.

I took a seat on a cushioned bench that had always struck me as impractically designed. Surely anyone could understand the advantage to placing a back on a seat?

“You know which ones I care about,” I said, still doing my best to play the innocent daughter.

“Those exist for a reason, Nosu,” he replied, sitting down across from me.

“Stuffy old tradition is an excuse, not a reason.”

“All creatures are meant to die when they are fed upon. It is simply the natural order of things. Multi-souled humans may be naturally occuring, but there are undoubtedly risks in digging into something with such clear consequences,” he said, his tone gently scolding, as if I were a child. “We know vampiric lords in the early dynasties had a reason to enact the ban.”

“It’s superstition,” I muttered, playing at pouting as he expected from his daughters.

“So were we, once,” he said. “The rise of the First One and his dynasty may have been lost, but we know that humans had horror stories about vampires before we came to be.”

“They also had myths about people turning into dogs or selling their souls to beings that lived in Impetus’ molten core. It’s hardly a good track record.”

He made a small noise, showing disinterest in continuing the conversation. Which translated to disinterest in continuing his life. Not that I had expected the conversation to go differently from my past attempts to argue the point.

Unfortunately my inhibitions were only starting to loosen. I could still feel resistance in my subconscious to the idea of swinging my sabre through his neck.

“What about expansion, then?”

“Now you’re just being stubborn, Nosu,” he replied. “We’ve pushed as far as the jump drives allow.”

“Jump drives aren’t necessary. They’re convenient, sure, but what’s a ten year voyage to one of us. You’ve spent longer than that on many of your paintings… I pay attention to which ones you’re working on when I visit.”

“Fine. Yes. Slower than light travel is only really a problem for short human lifespans. Which really doesn’t matter, but… we don’t understand how jump drives work. They predate our kind, and yet we still don’t grasp more than the basics. Humans definitely didn’t invent them. Which means that there might be a reason they stop working where they do.”

I leaned forward in my seat, rather interested. This was not the argument he had used a century ago, when I had last attempted to change his mind.

“You’ve learned something. You have been researching.”

“I’ve found whispers of half forgotten truths,” father replied, his sunken eyes moving up towards the false skylights. “Only enough to know that there’s nothing more to be found. But there’s the vague outline of something that we might be better off not poking at.”

Hearing that I deflated slightly, even if I would note the matter for future research once I had secured the throne. “You mean you’re afraid of a half imagined shadow.”

The phrase had come out harsher than I’d intended, and I realised the cocktail was beginning to take hold. It wasn’t there yet, but it was close.

“A large enough shadow is worth being afraid of,” father replied, his tone defensive.

“And so you hide here, in the belly of your palace, while the lords and merchants grow bold in your absence,” I muttered, unable to hold back the disgust at this point. Diplomacy was a slightly earlier casualty of the loss of inhibitions than I liked, but it was an acceptable trade at this point. “Stagnation and decline is setting in, father. That sickness is still in its early phases, and can still be reversed, but I grow increasingly convinced it cannot be reversed by you.”

He rose to his feet, a pained expression in his eyes. “I am not as weak as you think, daughter. I think we should finish this conversation when you’re in a better mood…”

“You’re hiding.”

“Withdrawing and hiding are not the same,” he said, walking over to my side, looming over where I sat.

Even as I stood, he still had nearly a head of height on me. Szlachta was always a better fit for the physical role of his daughter.

“Retire, then. Abdicate! Then no one will bother you! No one will whisper about having a coward on the throne!”

“I am not a coward! It is for the stability of the empire! Do you know how many assassins have come for my neck?” he roared, indignation clear on his face.

A smile crept across my lips as my hand rested upon my sabre’s handle. “At least three. ”

Father blinked, confusion replacing rage. Then betrayal washed through his eyes.

That was the last thing to pass through his head while it was still connected to his shoulders.

His body began slumping at about the same point his head hit the floor. I gave a small twirl of my sabre before walking over to pick his head up by his long and dark hair. My knees felt slightly weak, and some part of me wanted to be sick, but I needed to present proof when I left the imperial chambers and made my claim upon the crown.

Still, I needed to spend a few moments recovering, regaining my mental composure. I would need to be more put together before I stepped out to make my claim. Thankfully the window of the cocktail’s effects were rather limited and I could feel sobriety returning to my mind.

It was then a short walk back towards the airlock. I took a moment to steady my breath, hoping that the imperial klivanions would accept the turn of events. Still, if they did not, I knew the sentry guns were too basic in their thought patterns to defy the core logic that I was now empress. Between those and my own klivanions, the risk was minimal.

And so I pressed the buttons to open the airlock with the tip of my sabre, and entered the airlock. Holding out my father's head, I was about to give my statement of claim.

Only to have the words die in my throat as I took in the scene before me.

My own klivanions were pressed against the ground, held under the boots of Szlachta’s men, outnumbering them three to one. Meanwhile my sister stood in the middle of the imperial guards, a look of disappointment on her face.

“Oh my. Sister. You didn’t,” she said, crossing her arms and slowly shaking her head.

“Szlachta?”

“I didn’t think you’d do it yourself. I really didn’t,” she replied. “Leállí said you would, but I hoped you wouldn’t hurt daddy… I also thought you’d at least keep your hands cleaner.”

“Leállí…Leállítás? Leállítás Sange?” I said, a horror slowly dawning on me. “You’re dating her? That butcher?”

The women in question emerged from behind Szlachta, a wide grin on her face. Her clearly too well fed face, for which only her fangs and pointed ears were obvious signs of vampirism. Her eyes were likely still red, but were hidden by her sunglasses. Rather than the efficient black sunglasses that most vampires chose as protection from harsh lights, hers were pink and hearshaped. A pink that spread to the rest of her rather feminine, yet somehow still militant, outfit.

“I prefer ‘murderess’. It feels more feminine,” Leállítás replied in a sickly sweet tone worse than any I had employed against my now deceased father. “And I am very sorry that it turned out this way, Szlachta sweety. I know you liked your sister, but… well, she’s been very naughty. Patricide and regicide. That must be punished.”

Szlachta gave a small nod before gracefully drawing her long and lightly-curved miao-dao blade. An export of the Diyu system, much like myself. Not that the shared origin meant I could expect any comradery from it.

“Surrender, sister, and this may be slightly less painful.”

My eye twitched as I realised my plan had fallen apart at the worst stage. “In case you forget, younger sister, with father dead, I am now the empress.” I pointed my sabre towards her. “Imperial klivanions, I order you to defend me!”

The leader shook his head. “Princess Szlachta has every right to challenge you. Especially with Emperor Agyar’s head still in your hand. You have brought back the old ascent by combat.”

The sentry guns had spent a moment whirring back and forth, but then came to a stop, seeming to also decide on neutrality in this occasion of murky succession.

Leállítás gave a happy giggle, patting Szlachta on the elbow.

“Go get her, sweetie,” she said, before turning Szlachta’s menns. “Kill her klivanions.”

The assembled guards nodded, and I heard the sickly sound of blades passing through necks once again.

Unfortunately I had no time to mourn their passing, not even Opiekun’s.

Szlachta was advancing towards me, twirling her elegant two-handed blade with a grace I knew I couldn’t hope to match. I was disciplined in combat, yes, but Szlachta had dedicated her life to swordfighting. It was her passion through the centuries, which she had used both in putting down occasional human rebellions and across countless tournaments.

I dropped father’s head and shifted into a defensive posture.

“What do you want?” I asked, as Szlachta circled my position. “I would happily give you whatever you desire, sister. We don’t have to fight.”

“We do, though. What you’ve done is beyond dishonourable,” she replied.

“Oh, and your murderess of a girlfriend is a bastion of honour?” I muttered.

“She has been ruthless in putting down rebels, sure, but she would never murder her own rodzic. That simply is not done, Nosu,” Szlachta said, before dashing ahead.

I barely deflected the blow enough to dodge. She was stronger than me and had a two handed blade. Not to mention the reach advantage from her height and larger weapon.

She continued to press her advantage, further strikes incoming despite my attempts to retreat and keep space between us. A doomed effort in the limited space of the airlock.

Still, this was no training duel to work on skills with a blade. As such, I flicked my offhand to my hip and pulled out my spray-pistol. The flurry of bullets to the torso and face staggered Szlachta, buying me an opening to dash in and swing my sabre for her neck.

Only to find her blade thrust through my chest before I completed it.

I had known she was faster than me, but I hadn’t realised she could be that fast… perhaps I had hesitated subconsciously, not wanting to harm my sister.

With the sword running through my heart my body became immobilized, muscles going limp. While a wound to the heart would not kill a vampire, it still caused one’s stolen life energies to throw all available resources into making up for an inoperable heart, and so all other muscles gave way.

I found Szlachta lifting me into the air by the collar of my jacket, and carrying me back towards the corridor as my eyes lost focus.

“Good work, Szlach-y!” Leállítás called out, clapping dramatically enough I could make out the motion.

“What should we do with her, though? A public beheading?” Szlachta asked.

I made my best attempt to sneer, but my facial muscles failed me.

“No, no… that’s—ooh. I just remembered a delightful option, Leállítás replied. “There’s the old execution grounds on Minotaur. We can give her some time to dread her death as she waits for Inferno to slowly rise over the moon’s horizon.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I realised the grounds she was referring to. If I was going to die I rather preferred the quicker and less painful option of decapitation over the slow processing of burning under a star’s rays.

“That does seem like a proper punishment,” Szlachta said. “You deserve hell for this, sister. Killing daddy with your own hands…”

-

I had been left impaled as I was carried out to a shuttle, slowly hearing that nearly all of my forces were dead. A few were still holding out and fighting, but it was only a matter of time until they too were dealt with. Leállítás had, apparently, brought a full detachment of her anti-partisan forces to the palace. It seemed not paying attention to my sister’s skirt chasing had proved a far greater oversight than I had ever imagined possible.

My mind slipped in and out of consciousness on the short voyage up to Impetus’ large and grey moon, this much time spent impaled having nearly drained my energy reserves. Apparently that was not enough suffering for Szlachta’s liking, however.

Well before we had landed, she ordered a side door of the shuttle opened kilometres above the lunar surface. She then lifted her sword, which still ran through my heart, to dangle me out the side of the small vessel, where vacuum tore at my lungs. A quick flick of her wrists and the sword was dislodged from my chest, and I began to fall.

While Minotaur’s gravite was only a fraction of Impetus’ the lack of atmosphere meant I continued to accelerate well past any expected terminal velocity, slamming into the cold rocks below with enough force to lose consciousness once more.